Little Hope of Escape
by IrishRavenX
Summary: It's April Fools day. And the Witchblade has some issues. And you know when the Witchblade has issues...you guessed it; everyone is pulled into it. The mischeivous side of the blade spares no one. Chapter XVIII. I'm baaaaaaaaaaack. For a bit, at least.
1. Default Chapter

Author: IrishRavenX  
  
Title: Little Hope of Escape  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Nope. No sirreeeee. But if TnT and Top Cow don't get their act together, I shall take over!!!! Muhahahahahahahaha!!!!... Okay, maybe not.  
  
Spoilers: None that I can think of.  
  
Feedback: Yes. Please. Please. If don't get reviews, I will begin begging in a multitude of different languages. And that'll be just plain pathetic.  
  
Author's pathetic babblings: I haven't written a Witchblade fic for posting in quite awhile. Ever since I got a permanent writers block on Connections, I kinda drifted away from the swirling red light. But any way...on with the feature presentation.  
  
April Fools Day, the Witchblade way...  
  
Chapter I  
  
The insistent beeping of the alarm clock jarred Sara from her peaceful sleep, and she groaned. Yes...it had been a *peaceful* sleep. For once. The alarm clock hit the floor, and the piercing sound stopped. Sara fell back onto her bed, the warmth encompassing her. She wanted to sleep...just sleep... She looked around the room through her half-closed eyes, then settled back into sleep, the last thing she focused on being her wrist.  
  
Sara's eyes popped open after a few moments, and she sat up, rather alarmed. She stared at her wrist; the point where most of her problems stemmed from...except today, that certain nuisance was not where it had been when she had fallen asleep.  
  
"Oh Shit," Sara muttered, searching through her bed sheets frantically. Any thoughts of further sleep had been completely swept away by the new adrenaline rush.  
  
She knocked everything off the bed stand, the dresser, looked under the bed, the closet.the living room, the counters, the bathroom...it looked as if a tornado had swept through her loft, with the amount of stuff strewn all over the floor.  
  
Sara sat down on the couch and sighed in frustration. For something that she desperately wished to have out of her life, she was certainly worrying quite a lot over it.  
  
_Ironic, huh?_  
  
She rubbed her face in aggravation, and looked out the window. The sun was just coming up, and lit the windows of the building across the street. But another gleam on the windowsill caught her eye as well. A red, conniving, gleam from the bracelet sitting on the windowsill. Sara walked over and snatched up the bracelet, and looked into its glowing red eye.  
  
"You think that's funny, huh?" Sara asked darkly, getting the distinct impression that the sentient piece of metal was laughing at her, "You almost gave me a coronary!"  
  
The sensation that Sara guessed was laughter increased, and she just shook her head. Great. Of all the enchanted, mystical pieces of jewelry that she had to run across, it had to be one with a sense of humor. And a twisted one at that. Sara put the bracelet back on her wrist, where it swirled slowly, content with its prank, and started towards the kitchen; hoping she had remembered to buy coffee. She walked nearer to the kitchen, only to realize that the rug was very, very moist. As in "the dishwasher has gone insane" moist. Sara muttered some things that ought not to be repeated, and dashed to the bathroom, grabbing some towels to soak up the mess on the kitchen floor. She could only hope that it hadn't soaked through to one of the apartments below. "Shitshitshitshitshit," Sara muttered, picking the drenched and now useless towels off the floor.  
  
She sprinted back into the living room, looking for more towels, and tripped over the leather jacket which she had left in the middle of the floor, and went flying over the back of her couch, her head hitting the coffee table as she fell off the other side.  
  
Sara just laid on the floor, wondering if she didn't move, maybe all the forces working against her would just forget about her, and not bother her for the rest of the day. Hell, maybe they'd leave her alone forever...  
  
The phone rang, and with a sigh, Sara sat up, managing to hit her head on the coffee table coming back up. Sara put her hand to her head and closed her eyes, the ringing monotonously in the background.  
  
_Damn, that hurt._  
  
~*~  
  
Ian woke up with a start, hearing a crash in the distance. At first he thought it was thunder, but as he listened more intently, he heard another crash, from within the mansion. He jumped up from his bed, tripping over the sheets he had become entangled in during the night. He had been through some rather.interesting dreams of lately. He pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of black pants while he ran into the hall. The noise continued, more intense this time. He sprinted down the stairs, more or less dressed, and towards the kitchen, where he suspected the racket was coming from.  
  
He skidded to a halt on the wooden floor outside the door, only to see something that made his face contort into a look of pure horror and absolute confusion. The kitchen staff were all hunched in a corner, looking just about as terrified and confused as Ian was when he saw what they were staring at. He saw his employer and master sitting on the floor, banging pans against the kitchen's linoleum floor, creating a god-awful clamor. And even more peculiar...he was smiling....and his clothes were in such disarray as to suggest he did not know how to dress himself. Kennith also had a rather expensive looking tie adorning his head.  
  
"Mr. Irons...what..." Ian looked in puzzlement as his employer looked up at him with the look of a five-year-old child.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"I'm playin' the drums," he replied perkily, resuming the horrible percussion solo and denting the pans while the kitchen staff remained crowded in a corner.  
  
"Sir...are you feeling all right?"  
  
"Uh-huh," Irons replied, continuing with his childish behavior.  
  
"Perhaps you should give me those pans and go sit at the table..."  
  
"NO!!!!!" Irons shrieked, throwing the pans at Ian, which he narrowly ducked out of the path of.  
  
"I want to play!!!" Irons was silent for a few moments, then looked up at Ian, "Can I have chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast?"  
  
Ian glanced to the cook, who nodded hesitatingly. Irons broke out into another drum solo, and Ian turned to the kitchen staff.  
  
"Please keep an eye on him...I am going to call Dr. Immo." The staff agreed begrudgingly, avoiding Irons as they made their way around the kitchen, wishing to avoid being hit with metal pans at all costs.  
  
Ian shook his head, thoroughly bemused. Had Irons truly snapped? Had his mind no longer been able to keep up with the treatments he was partaking in to seem young? Ian glanced at the calendar on the wall and stopped in mid- step.  
  
April 1.  
  
That date held significance, but Ian was unable to remember why. April first. April...fools...April Fools day. He should have known. Ian slammed his fist against the wall. His first call would be to Dr. Immo, but then he needed to have a chat with a certain retailer of Talismans...  
  
~*~  
Authors note: It's not much, I know. If people like it and review...I shall post more of it. Yes. I have more written. Just ask an ye shall receive. ;P.  
  
Question: Did I get the character voices down all right? As I said, it's been a long time since I have written a Witchblade fic, let alone seen an episode.  
  
Thanks.  
  
Slan agat!  
  
-X, of the Irish Raven persuasion 


	2. Chapter II April fools and aspirin

Author: IrishRavenX  
  
Title: Little Hope of escape  
  
Summary: It's April Fools day. And the Witchblade has some issues. And you know when the witchblade has issues...you guessed it; everyone is pulled into it. Irons, Ian, Sara, Gabriel, and a few other unlucky souls are about to experience the mischievous side of the Witchblade. Chaos ensues. As usual.  
  
Disclaimer: My precious...yes..precious... Okay. So maybe it's not mine. If it were mine, I'd be sitting down with TnT, and negotiating. Or beating the crap out of them. (Gollum isn't mine either, but he'd be a cool dude to have around the house. Except when he inevitably starts to steal silver wear...)  
  
Authors drivel: Allo again. Here be-eth chapter II, or chapter *2*, for those of you not fond of Roman numerals. I hope you enjoy. The only time I have to write this is during Math class, so chapters may not be up regularly. The only reason I updated so soon is because this idea just happened to break through the writer's block recently plaguing me. Hehehe. Me and my muse are getting along again. Maybe I'll actually re-post "Connections" now, with a new chapter...muahahahahahaha!!! :ahem: ::regains composure, and makes a mental note not to write the spiel for the story after 12 am...  
  
Feedback: Please? Bitte? Por favour? Merci? Prosze? Bhur dtoil e`? Ker`em? Told ya' it would sound pathetic. I do wish for feedback. If I don't get it, I fear will become obsessed with getting reviews, and I will have no time to finish the story...and...and...well, you get the point. It will end up being truly pathetic, with me in locked in my room, or talking to my cat. (Even worse, I don't have a cat!!!) So...yeah...Review. For the cat's sake. ;P  
  
Hm...I guess I'll leave you to read the story now.  
  
~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
  
Sara parked her Buell and took off her helmet, wincing as she did so. Her head was still quite sore from that morning's events. And there were only so many aspirin you could take. To add to that, her leather jacket was wet, and quite possibly shrinking. Which did not help her mood at all.  
  
She walked up the steps to the station house, dreading the day to come like it was the plague itself. April Fools day was not a good day at the station house, especially for her, one of the only female officers there. But after last year...well, it was safe to say that most of the police officers now had the common sense to leave her be, and keep her out of their practical jokes.  
  
But of course, some never learned.  
  
She opened the door final door to the precinct, only to have a bucket of water dumped on her head from above. Laughter broke out through the office, and someone tossed her a towel.  
  
"Boys, who wishes to be beaten into a bloody pulp first?" Sara inquired innocently, vigorously running towel through her hair.  
  
The precinct fell silent, and people went back to their work, a few of the officers going back to set up the bucket again, when they thought she wasn't looking.  
  
Sara glanced down at her wrist, where the Witchblade was once again laughing, having had no plan of warning her about the prank.  
  
"You want to spent the rest of the day in my pocket? Laugh it up, Twitchy,"  
  
This caused the stone to swirl even faster, and the sensation Sara recognized as laughter to increase. With a sigh, and much paranoid looking about, she walked into her office.  
  
"Morning, Sara," Danny greeted from his desk, seated rather comfortably with his feet up on the desk.  
  
"Mrg," Sara mumbled in reply.  
  
"Hm...sounds as though Sara did not get her coffee today, am I correct?" Danny asked, noting his partner's inability to speak in complete sentence.  
  
"Righto," she muttered. She sat down at her desk, only to be greeted with the sound of a whoopee cushion. Sara glared daggers at Danny.  
  
"Hey, don't look at me," Danny said innocently. Sara was about to respond with a "don't give me that shit", but something more important came up. Jake walked into the office, holding a folder in one hand, but more importantly; a cup of coffee in the other.  
  
Sara practically leaped over the desk, and grabbed the styrofoam cup from him before the rookie could react.  
  
She took a deep sip of it, sloshed it around in her mouth...then, her face turning into one of repulsion, spit it out in disgust. Jake began to laugh so hard his sides hurt and dropped what else he was carrying onto the desk.  
  
"What the hell?" Sara demanded, spitting the remains of the foul beverage out.  
  
"You didn't give me time to warn you," Jake said between his bursts of laughter, "I think it's a combination of old coffee grounds, soda and vinegar. Orlinski got me with it. But hey, two birds with one stone."  
  
Danny put his hand to his mouth to conceal the inevitable smile.  
  
"Yeah, really funny, rookie," Sara growled, punching him, hard, "I'm going to go out to get some real coffee. I've been here five minutes, and I'm already fed up."  
  
Sara looked over to Danny questioningly.  
  
"Want to come with?" Danny sighed.  
  
"I would love to, but unfortunately, the seat of my pants and the pant legs happen to be super glued to these surfaces. But if you could hand me the phone, I'll call Lee and have her bring me some new clothes."  
  
Sara looked at Danny in mystification, wondering why he was so calm about it. Danny inferred this question from the look she gave him, and replied;  
  
"I've come to accept the fact that this place is mad house on April 1st. No use yelling at people until I'm out of this chair and in the position to kick the party responsibles' ass." Danny looked at Jake as he finished his sentence.  
  
"What?!" Jake asked innocently, though, ironically, he was not a very good liar.  
  
"You know what? I'd start booking a plane ticket now if I were you. Or at least find a really, *really* good place to hide," Danny suggested.  
  
Sara sighed, and looked from Danny, to Jake, then to the Witchblade's swirling stone. She pushed the phone to Danny and grabbed her helmet as she made her way out the door. As soon as she wasn't looking, Jake pulled the phone back, out of Danny's reach.  
  
"McCarty..." Danny warned.  
  
Jake just smiled evilly and walked from the room, shutting the door behind him, leaving a very upset Danny behind him in the office.  
  
~*~  
  
"Talismaniac, Gabriel speaking, how may I help you?"  
  
"You can tell me what sort of effect April 1st has on the Witchblade," Ian replied, deciding to cut right to the chase. He disliked this Gabriel boy to some extent, but he was useful. He would rather not have to kill him.  
  
"Ah, hello cryptic stalker man. Nice to hear from you...I think..." Gabriel replied with much sarcasm.  
  
"Mr. Bowman, this call is pertaining to a matter of the upmost importance. I must know, and you seem to be one able to get the information..."  
  
"Whoa," Gabriel interjected, "You, need information from *me*? Little old me? Wow...I must be dreaming..."  
  
Ian's glare was so intense that Gabe could almost see it over the phone.  
  
"What effect does "April Fools" have on the Witchblade? Or the other way around. Either way," Ian asked, glancing towards Irons, who was plopped down in front of the television, watching cartoons, "This could prove to be very crucial."  
  
Gabe sighed and sat back in his chair. He was feeling rather sure of himself around Nottingham at that moment...which was actually rather odd...Gabriel shook his head as if to clear it of the thought. It was a very rare day indeed when Ian called up sounding so desperate. '*So* desperate' in this case being 'not very' but more than usual, in Nottingham's case.  
  
"Well...let's see. It's theoretically thought to have a bit of a trickster spirit in it...something connected to the god Loki on this day. As you probably already know, Loki is the Norse god of Mischief," Gabriel explained, "Ya' know, mix-ups, changes, deceiving behavior...and in some cases, good old practical jokes. But further so than the normal jokes you get on April fools. Psychological tricks, often said to effect people connected to the Switchblade."  
  
Ian felt his hands go cold, along with some of his internal organs as he made this correlation.  
  
"The people connected with the Witchblade?" Ian inquired.  
  
"Yeah, that's what I said. I'm assuming that just means the Wielder..."  
  
Nottingham's silence began to worry Gabe. It began to worry him quite a lot. Nottingham was a quiet guy, yes....but this was more than an uneasy silence. This silence had thoughts of doomsday in it. This silence...was just flat out creepy.  
  
"What are you thinking, Nottingham?"  
  
"Irons told me that everything is connected. I am connected to the Witchblade's cycle, as is Irons...as are many others in Sara's life...which means you, too, Mr. Bowman are at some degree of risk."  
  
"You mean..."  
  
"Yes, Mr. Bowman. Today is not a good day to be a friend of the Wielder. Or to be anywhere near her. Hell, I'd be packed and on a plane to Moscow if my employer had not recently been regressed to a mental state of a five year old."  
  
Gabriel heard the click of the phone being hung up, and just stared at the receiver. What had Nottingham just said?  
Ian hung up the phone, staring at his employer, who was laughing as the coyote went off the ledge and was flattened on the ground below. He could not begin to fathom what the Witchblade had in store for him. But whatever it was, he doubted that it would be pleasant, and he was sure that whatever was in store, he had little chance of escaping from it.  
  
~*~  
  
Danny inched towards the phone, twisting himself at an awkward angle. His hand was within inches of the phone...when it began to slip off the desk.  
  
"Noooooooo!!!"  
  
~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
  
A/N: Want more? Well, I want reviews. I think we've come to an understanding here. Think of the poor cat!!! ;P 


	3. Chapter III porcelain and caffeine

Title: Little hope of escape  
  
Author: IrishRavenX  
  
Disclaimer: It's not mine. I betcha you already knew that. Had to rub it in, didn't you?! :P  
  
A/N: Tralalalalalalaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. That's about it. Oh yes, and please review. ;P.  
  
**************************************************************************** ***********  
  
Chapter III  
  
**************************************************************************** ************  
  
"Dr. Immo," Ian nodded in greeting.  
  
"Good Morning, Ian. What can I do for you toda..."  
  
As he spoke, Kennith came flying through the room with a sheet tied around his neck like a cape, running around the parlor and jumping over chairs. He made a few full circles, and then disappeared into another room. Seconds later, the Irish Wolfhounds came running into the room and cowering behind Ian. Even they knew when something was seriously wrong. Their master running around the mansion like a lunatic and making flying sound effect noises...it just wasn't right!  
  
As Dr. Immo stared after his old friend, disbelief was apparent in his eyes.  
  
"What...how...is he..."  
  
Ian looked at Dr. Immo with some considerable amount of worry. It was rare day indeed when he was at loss for words.  
  
"I do not know," Ian replied. They were silent for a few moments, as Dr. Immo processed what he had just seen.  
  
Immo looked at Ian, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.  
  
"This isn't some kind of prank, is it?"  
  
Ian looked at Immo dubiously, knowing that the thought process of Immo and himself were quite similar at that moment.  
  
_Mr. Irons? A prank? That would require a sense of humor to speak of..._  
  
"No, I suppose it's not."  
  
Ian and Immo stood in the parlor, watching for the occasional glimpse of Irons running past the door with his sheet, chasing the Wolfhounds about the mansion, and hearing the screams of staff and the random clattering of priceless metal objects.  
  
"He must have amnesia," Immo said after a few minutes, and whimper from one of the dogs, "Or something happened that has caused Kenneth to have been reverted back to a childhood stage."  
  
Another crash was heard, followed by many individual crashes.  
  
_The porcelain cabinet._ Ian thought to himself with a sigh.  
  
"I'm afraid I can't do much here," Dr. Immo said after a pause.  
  
There was silence, then the triumphant yell of a five-year-old, and the screech of a staff member.  
  
"I suggest that you call a psychologist, or study up on Freud. It is said that amnesia can last anywhere from a few hours to a few years."  
  
"A few years?" Ian repeated to himself, mainly in speculation and a good amount of horror. Ian could not stand Irons, it could be pure hell living under his control. But Irons as a child...it was shaping up to be far worse.  
  
~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~  
  
Sara walked from the coffee shop, feeling much better about the day. Caffeine did that for a person. She stood on the sidewalk for a few moments, looking up and down the street. A man bumped into her as he briskly walked along.  
  
Helloooooo hot momma,  
  
"What did you say?!" Sara demanded, turning around quickly.  
  
"What?" the man looked at her in bewilderment.  
  
Oooo, Feisty too. I'd like a piece of that...  
  
"How dare you?!" Sara exclaimed, slapping the man across the face.  
  
The man's hand went up to his face in shock and confusion.  
  
"What the fuck is wrong with you?"  
  
Bitch!  
  
"You need to watch your mouth!" Sara growled.  
  
"I said *what*!!" the man protested.  
  
Geez. PMSing much? What a psycho bitch.  
  
Sara decked the man, and he fell to the ground. The people around her just stared, and carried on with their business.  
  
What happened there? Should I call someone? Wow...remind me not to ever piss that woman off. Is that my ex-boyfriend? A man passing by looked down at the man Sara just knocked out. Nope. He'd never wear that suit. Did I leave the toaster on? Why waste money on these stop-walk lights when no one cares? Come on people, move! I'll bite your bloody legs off!  
  
Why the hell don't New Yorkers wear brighter colours?! I'm gonna snap if I see another black umbrella... Sara heard a scream from down the street, emanating from a woman stomping on a black umbrella she had grabbed from a passing businessman. Now he was a very dazed and shaken businessman, and without an umbrella.  
  
Sara blinked her eyes in rapid succession, and the voices were gone. She looked sternly at the Witchblade.  
  
"I thought we had come to an understanding," she shook her head, and put the Witchblade in her pocket. She could feel the bracelet glowing angrily through the material of her jacket.  
  
Sara stepped into the street, looking both ways before beginning to cross. Not a car in sight. She stepped into the road, and milli-seconds later, dove back towards the curb, just barely avoiding a very personal, and not to mention *painful* encounter with a Mac truck. She looked back into the street, and it was once again clear  
  
She could feel the Witchblade glowing once again, the wicked laughter ringing silently in her ears.  
  
"All right, all right. But behave, will you?!" Sara exclaimed, getting a few odd looks from innocent passer-bys as she scolded her bracelet.  
  
She put it back on and sprinted across the street before any more eighteen- wheelers could appear out of nowhere. Sara glanced at the clock in a store- front window. Nine thirty. So much time. No where to hide.  
  
~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~  
  
Ian walked into one of the many rooms of the mansion, where he finally found Irons, sitting in front of the television, once again.  
  
"Mr. Irons?" Ian inquired cautiously.  
  
His regressed employer was a bit angry with him still. Ian had to shoot Kenneth with a tranquilizer gun in order to calm him down. It seemed to be the way to cause the least amount of harm. But since the reaction he got when the child/Irons had woken up was not a very good one, Ian decided it would not be wise to use the tranquilizer gun again.  
  
Ian walked over and stood in front of the wide-screen television, blocking Iron's view of the screen.  
  
"Mr. Irons..."  
  
"My name is Kenni," he protested, trying to look around Ian to see the television, "Mr. Irons is my father. I don't want to be like my father. He's mean and beats his servants."  
  
Ian was silent for a few moments before continuing, feeling the scars on his back more than ever.  
  
"Mr. Kenni," Ian said slowly, "Do you know who I am?"  
  
Kenni looked at Nottingham for a few minutes, his face scrunching up as he thought.  
  
"Nope. Are you one of Father's friends?"  
  
"Something like that," Ian replied. He was beginning to notice the German accent that was evermore evident in Kenneth's voice.  
  
"He won't be home until tomorrow. Can you tell the servants to clean up so he doesn't get mad. Vater bekommt sehr, sehr gemein wann er Böse ist. Sehr sehr gemein.und wann er Böse an Mutter letzte zeit bekommt.es war nicht gut"  
  
Kenneth shook his head. Ian had only caught a few of the words Kenneth had said. Not because it had been in German; Ian was fluent in German, Kenneth had been muttering as if he was afraid someone else would overhear. He had said something to the extent of "Father gets mean when he is mad. Last time he was mad at mother.it was not good."  
  
Silence passed for a few moments, Irons leaning on his side to see the television around Ian.  
  
"Do you know the date, Kenneth?"  
  
"Yes, of course. It is April 1st, 1903,"  
  
"And how old are you?"  
  
"I am six," he replied proudly. Kenni thought about it for a moment, "Well...I'm six tomorrow. Daddy says he's going to get me something very special. But sometimes he forgets."  
  
Ian took pity on Irons. He looked more like a child than an adult with the look on his face. It was hard to think of him as the man who had terrorized his youth.  
  
"Well, what do you want for your birthday?"  
  
Kenneth looked around, as if afraid someone was listening in on their conversation.  
  
"I want a train set the moves on a track...and a German Shepard. Father refuses to get me one. He only likes Irish Wolfhounds. He says Shepards are not eloquent enough to have around the house. My first choice was a bunny, though. But Father says boys do not keep rabbits as pets. "  
  
Kenneth sighed. Ian just stood their, studying him in confusion while rubbing his beard, deep in thought.  
  
"Mr. Ian?"  
  
"Yes, Mr. Kenni?"  
  
"Could you move? I can't see the television,"  
  
Ian moved swiftly out of the way, and Kenneth's eyes became once again glued to the screen. This day would indeed prove to be interesting. Luckily, tv acted like a sedative to children. As long as he kept the television on, he would have little problems from young Mr. Irons.  
  
~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~  
  
Gabriel sat in his computer chair, staring at the television intently. He didn't realize that the phone was ringing until the fifth tone. He reached over for the phone, which was slightly out of reach. He managed to get it, but in doing so, his chair tipped over.  
  
"Ow. Talismanic. I'll sell you objects of power in return for aspirin."  
  
"Sorry, Gabe," Sara replied, "I definitely need all I can get right now.  
  
"Then what can I do for ya', Chief?"  
  
"Do you have your little Witchblade hand-book nearby?" Sara asked sarcastically.  
  
"Always,"  
  
"Then can you tell me what the hell is going on with this piece of metal on my wrist?!"  
  
Gabriel held the phone away from his ear, the end of her sentence ending in a yell.  
  
"I was wondering when you'd call about it," Gabe said nonchantly.  
  
"Wait...Gabriel," Sara said, in her oh-so-famous warning tone, "Did you already know about this?"  
  
"Er...yeah. Nottingham called me about it just an hour ago. Something about Irons..."  
  
"It's effecting Irons?"  
  
"Yeah. Nottingham says that it will effect everyone in the Wielder's life."  
  
Sara paused, about to open the door to the precinct.  
  
"Gabe...when you say *everyone* who exactly does that entail?"  
  
"Well..." Gabe paused, "I don't rightly know,"  
  
The door of the precinct burst open, and three officers and a monkey with a police hat came running out.  
  
"Hey Gabe, I'll call you back,"  
  
~*~~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~*~  
  
The back of Danny's chair was now on the floor as he inched his way towards the phone. He had his hand on it, when a monkey burst into the office and grabbed it from his hands, and ran out. He groaned and hit his head on the floor repeatedly. A monkey. Of course. A monkey... Danny looked towards the door the primate had left through. The monkey had looked surprisingly like Dante...  
  
******************************************************************  
  
A/N: Alloooooooo. Did you enjoy the chapter? I hope so. Want ta' tell me about it? There's a little blue button...makes a world of difference. You can talk about anything, really! Tell me about your mother... ::takes out the psychiatrist note pad::  
  
:: the psychiatrist she stole it from kicks around in the closet:: Muahahahahaha!  
  
(Note to self again...don't write author's notes after 1 am. It scares people away...) 


	4. Chapter IV Assassins and bunnies

Disclaimer: If you already know what I'm going to say: clap your hands, If you already know what I'm going to say: clap your hand, This belongs to Top Cow, if you didn't know, you do now, TnT needs to smarten up, clap your hands.  
  
Heh...  
  
A/N: Thanks for the reviews!!!!!!! I feel sooooo loved. And the cat sends its thanks.  
  
Feedback: ::jumps around happily:: ~~~~ :D...need I say more?  
  
Archive: Sure, sure. Just tell me first.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* **************************************************************************** ************ ~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*  
  
Chapter IV  
  
Sara stood on the steps, watching the cops chase the monkey through the parking lot. She was debating whether it was worth it to actually go into the precinct, or whether she should run. Run fast and run far. But she went against her good instincts and pushed open the door, narrowly avoiding the spray of water from above.  
  
This is all getting very old, very fast, Sara thought with a deep sigh.  
  
*  
  
All the way across town, Ian was thinking the very same thing to himself as he tried to get Mr. Irons down from a tree in the backyard of the estate.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Sara walked into the office, and only had to get a quick glance before she decided to sprint the rest of the way to her office, and shut the door, bracing her back against it as if she feared some of the insanity would leak in.  
  
"Hi Sara,"  
  
Sara looked around the office, trying to figure out where the voice had come from. She looked around the desk, and saw Danny lying on the floor, his hands behind his head as if relaxing.  
  
"Uh...hi partner," Sara paused, "Did you call Lee?"  
  
"No,"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Jake, a monkey that looked like Captain Dante, and a few other really, really bizarre events."  
  
"Oh, well, here, you can use my..." Sara held out her cell phone, but it began to ring.  
  
"Just a second,"  
  
Danny let the hand he was holding out for the phone to fall to the ground.  
  
"Pezzini, go,"  
  
"Lady Sara. It is a comfort to hear your voice,"  
  
"What do you want, Nottingham?"  
  
'A ticket to Moscow,' he thought, "I need to speak with you. It is a matter of great importance."  
  
"I'm a bit busy right now, Nottingham," Sara said, looking through the blinds and into the station house's main office, "I have a few problems right now,"  
  
"Lady Sara, I implore you. I do not know what to do in this particular..." A crash could be heard in the background, "situation," he finished with a defeated sigh.  
  
"You having monkey problems over there, Nottingham?"  
  
"Monkeys? No. But fairly close," Ian replied, watching Kenneth gallivant around the house from the safety of the security room. Most of the staff had been hiding in there when he arrived, but he had told them to get back to their jobs. Though their jobs were near impossible with Iron's current mental state. He had locked the doors to any rooms of importance, that held relics, books, breakables...weapons...house hold utensils...which narrowed it down to a very few rooms.  
  
"Ian...what's going on over there?"  
  
Ian suppressed a laugh. She must be truly concerned. She called me Ian.  
  
"I think you'd have to see it to believe it, but I'd rather you didn't. I will meet you at Gabriel's shop in twenty minutes. If we don't figure this out there, I shall be leaving for Russia until next week." Another crash could be heard, "If I'm not there in twenty minutes, call the paramedics or come to get me, Lady Sara,"  
  
With that, Ian ended the call, leaving a very baffled Sara on the other end. She quickly shut the phone and opened the door to the office.  
  
"Sara..." Danny beseeched.  
  
"I'll be back soon!" Sara promised, dashing into the main office.  
  
Danny groaned and hit his head on the floor again.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
**KNOCK-KNOCK**  
  
A dull *thud* and a series of curses followed. Gabriel rolled out from under one of the display cases, and picked up a bat, walking towards the door warily. He looked through the peephole and relaxed visibly. He pulled the door open, and let Nottingham in, slinging the bat casually over his shoulder.  
  
"Oh. It's just you,"  
  
Ian raised an eyebrow in bemusement. The young man seemed to exhibit no fear towards him whatsoever. It was a new development in the young man. He probably would have had the bat more ready to swing on normal days...  
  
"You didn't happen to send a bunch of people over here to kill me or anything, did you?" Gabriel asked, setting the bat down next to his desk.  
  
"No, not that I know of," Ian replied.  
  
Gabriel shrugged and walked over to his computer chair.  
  
"Is Lady Sara here of yet?"  
  
"Not unless she came in with the assassins,"  
  
"Assassins?" Ian was trying to figure out whether the boy was being serious, or this was an 'April Fools' joke.  
  
"Yeah. They seemed quite bent on killing me," Gabriel said, picking up the pieces of some of his broken merchandise.  
  
'That is the point of an assassin,' Ian thought to himself, "How did they get inside your shop? The door does not seem to be broken, nor any of the windows. Did you let them in the front door?"  
  
"Of course not. They must have gotten in the same way the rabbits did."  
  
"Rabbits?" Ian inquired.  
  
As he spoke, one hopped into view.  
  
"Damn. I thought I got all of them," Gabe sighed and scooped up the fluffy white animal.  
  
"Hold her for a second, will you?" Gabriel didn't wait for Ian to reply, and just shoved the rabbit into the assassin's arms.  
  
Ian watched the young man walk off into the back of the shop, suddenly wishing he hand stayed at the mansion. Mr. Bowman was much more tolerable when he was in a state of constant fear. His cell phone rung, and he shifted the rabbit so he could get his phone out of the inner pocket of his coat. It became so inconvenient to hold the phone and the squirming rabbit that he dropped the fuzzy creature into a pocket of his trench coat.  
  
"Nottingham here,"  
  
"Nottingham...sir...we're having a few problems over here." Nottingham immediately recognized the voice the assistant-head of security, Robert Daniels.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Mr. Irons has broken through some of the doors...he's gotten into the weapons room, sir."  
  
"Use the tranquilizer gun, then put him in front of a television in the room with the least expensive breakables."  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
Ian closed his phone and put it away, then fished the rabbit out of his pocket. He heard the door of the shop open, followed by Detective Pezzini's voice.  
  
"Gabriel? Nottingham?"  
  
"Hello, Lady Sara," Nottingham said, stepping into view, from the virtually inexistent shadows.  
  
"Jesus, Nottingham. You scared the..." Sara bit her lip.  
  
"Is that a bunny?"  
  
Nottingham looked at the creature, which twitched its nose in response.  
  
"I believe so,"  
  
"Where did it come from?"  
  
"Hiya, Chief. I'd ask that little fiend on your wrist if I were you. The rabbits came in after the assassins," Gabriel said, walking out of the back room, "Can't say which was worse."  
  
"Assassins?" Sara asked.  
  
"Yeah. Around nine-thirty."  
  
Sara grimaced noticeably. That was around the time when she had put the bracelet in her pocket. The jewel of the blade was still swirling; and she could swear it was smiling.  
  
"Feeling proud of your self, huh?" Sara asked, glaring down at the smug bracelet.  
  
"I wouldn't taunt it if I were you," Gabriel warned, "And in fact, as someone trapped in its little web, I beg you not to."  
  
"Oh really? Do explain,"  
  
"Okay...well...Traditionally, this chaos only lasts for one day. But if you piss it off enough..."  
  
Gabe paused; both Nottingham and Sara were staring at him intently.  
  
"This chaos. It could, in theory, and I believe has done before..." Gabe paused again, "...it could last a little over a week."  
  
"A WEEK?!" Sara yelled  
  
Gabe flinched. That was the reaction he was expecting. Even Nottingham took a step back.  
  
"I've had five hours of this, and I'm already fed up!!!"  
  
"Four hours and fifty-three minutes," corrected Ian, quietly.  
  
"Whatever," Sara sighed, "In any case, this thing is screwing everyone up, and we need to find a way to stop it. I don't want to think og what will happen if it starts to effect the whole population of New York City!"  
  
'They are odd enough already,' Ian thought to himself.  
  
"Hey!" Sara protested, slapping Ian upside the head, "Don't diss New Yorkers."  
  
Ian got the 'deer-in-the-headlights' look. Had he said that out loud?  
  
"It couldn't do that, could it?" Gabriel asked, wondering what Nottingham had just gotten hit for, "Not everyone in New York...could it?!"  
  
"The Witchblade in a very powerful object, Mr. Bowman. That combined with the power of Loki...there is no telling how far it will go, or what effects it will have on the population."  
  
Sara and Gabriel began to hold back laughter rather unsuccessfully.  
  
"What? I see no humor in this rather drastic situation,"  
  
He followed their gazes to the rabbit he was holding, which had begun to chew on his hair. The two broke into uncontrollable laughter.  
  
"This is not a time to be acting like children," Ian protested, pulling his hair from the creature's mouth, and putting the animal back in his pocket.  
  
"It's hard when you, Ian Nottingham, assassin extraordinaire are standing there holding a bunny rabbit while explaining some cryptic and complex aspect of the Witchblade." Sara said in-between gasps of air.  
  
Ian sighed and walked towards the door.  
  
"Woah, Nottingham, where are you going?"  
  
"Moscow,"  
  
He continued towards the door, but Sara walked over to block his path.  
  
"I need your help here, Ian. You seem to be one of the few sane and unaffected people left. Except for this urge to flee you seem to have going. Very un-Nottingham."  
  
"My employer has been reverted to the mental state of a hyperactive five year old, and I have little tolerance for the man when he acts his age." Ian paused, "But I mean that with the up-most respect..."  
  
"Yeah, how old is that geezer by now any way? 110? 115?" Gabe jested, "The bastard doesn't look a day over eighty. Vampire," He muttered under his breath.  
  
"You little." Nottingham made a lunge at Gabriel, but Sara grabbed him around the waist, that blade contorting into its "brass knuckles" form. Tendrils from the blade wrapped around his body, and held him back. "Gabe, Ian and I are going down to the police station, see if we can figure a way to get the Zoo.ahem.precinct.back under control. Then we're going to check up on Mr. Irons," Sara struggled to pull Nottingham out the door, "I'll check in with you later. Try to avoid assassins, will ya'?"  
  
With a final burst of strength, and a jab in Nottingham's stomach from the gauntlet, Sara pulled him outside and kicked the door shut.  
  
"NOTTINGHAM!" Sara yelled the struggling man. She knew he could have easily thrown her aside, but oddly enough, he did not.  
  
"Why do I defend him?" Ian said aloud, mainly to himself, stopping his struggle. Why did he defend the man who treated him like an animal, like a possession.a possession with which Irons believed he could do as he pleased?  
  
"I don't know, Nottingham, that's just one thing you have to figure out for yourself," Sara automatically brought her hand up to touch Ian's cheek, but pulled away when she realized what she was doing, "Come on, Nottingham. I have to go save Danny from the endless torture of the precinct."  
  
"Why does he not just leave? Detective Woo seems to have a bit more common sense than to stay in a mad house."  
  
"He's super glued to his chair," Sara said briskly.  
  
"Ah. Of course. The obvious explanation."  
  
Sara looked over at him as the entered the alley, catching the smile and twinkle of humor in his caramel eyes.  
  
"You should smile more, Nottingham," Sara said, 'You look so handsome when you do...'  
  
Sara continued on, but Ian stopped and smiled again. It felt good to smile.  
  
He glanced down at his coat, feeling an irregular weight; then remembering the rabbit. He pulled the fluffy white creature from his pocket and caught up with Sara. They went to their separate vehicles and started towards the police station. They could nary imagine what awaited them.  
  
**************************************************************************** ************* ~*~ **************************************************************************** *************  
  
A/N: ::Pulls off headphones:: This story has been sponsored by my odd choices in music: ( To name a few...System of Down, Flogging Molly, The Beatles, Weird Al, Harvey Danger, John Williams, Mark Snow), my chronic insomnia. Why I've told you this? Keep reading.  
  
I got an e-mail asking me 'what the hell this story is supposed to be about, and where the hell I'm going with it.' (The exact words were a tad more unpleasant, crass and degrading than that.) My reply to this person, (who shall remain nameless 'cause I'm nice like that) is:  
  
It's about April Fools, and the effect of the day on the Witchblade, which, as you may have noticed, is a bit hectic. I'm sorry if it's not as serious as you think it should be...but if you haven't noticed, we as writers are titled to a sense of humor.  
  
Where it's going: I HAVE NO CLUE. I'm making this up as I go along, with help from my temporarily cooperative muse, music, my Witchblade notes and pictures, and my insane homeroom. So, mi'dear, if you have something you wish for me to add; or any more qualms you wish to add, run it by me, and I'll be glad to consider or explain it. :P  
  
(Subliminal Message: REVEIWREVIEWREVIEWREVIEW) 


	5. Chapter V Flying Stapler

Disclaimer: Hehehehehe...it's mine! All mine!!! MUAHAHAHAHAHA!  
  
::IrishRaven's sane half "X" appears::  
  
Ahem...it seems that she...I...we...Well, in any case, my other half is under the delusion that she owns Witchblade. But she, and I, do NOT own Witchblade, or anything to do with it. Top Cow has most of the rights, and TnT (cough)stupidbastards(cough), may have some share, though I doubt they have any, since they canceled ::ARG!!!:. Just wanted to clear that up. IrishRaven can get carried away with her active imagination sometimes...  
  
A/N: I would have updated sooner, but I was inevitable detained by a trip to Montreal. Heh. A trip that I didn't know about until eleven pm the night before. So, hopefully my lull in updating is forgivable.  
  
Feedback: Need I say anything? I feel it would insult your intelligence if I begged pathetically for reviews once again. So here I am. Not begging pathetically for reviews. Nope, no begging here. ::Awkward silence ensues::  
  
So...uh, here's the next chapter.  
  
**************************************************************************** ********  
  
Chapter V  
  
**************************************************************************** *********  
  
Danny stared up at the ceiling, listening to the chaos occurring outside the office. Sooner or later, Lee would notice he was gone.of course, with how hectic the house had been lately, with his son and daughter, and the new baby on the way..But she'd surely notice if he wasn't home before.ten o'clock pm.certainly well before eleven. Danny glanced at his watch. Five after eleven o'clock. That was only.eleven hours.maybe twelve.  
  
The door of the office opened, then closed with a loud bang. Danny reached for his gun. If it was that monkey again.  
  
"What.the.hell.?!" the girl was out of breath, and very perplexed. She was at the police station, right?!  
  
Danny strained his neck to see around the desk. The girl was leaning against the door, afraid, as were most people who entered the office that day; fearing that whatever insanity was outside would seep in.  
  
"Detective Pezzini? Detective Woo?" A teenage girl was looking around the office for the aforementioned detectives.  
  
"May I help you?" Danny asked.  
  
"I'm here to drop something off for Detective Pezzini.is she here?"  
  
"No. But she should be back soon,"  
  
"How soon is soon?" the she asked, looking through the blinds and into the stations house/Zoo.  
  
"I don't know. I didn't catch your name."  
  
"Eli," the girl replied.  
  
"If you leave whatever it is here, I'll make sure she'll get it."  
  
"Detective Woo, one quick question.why are you down there?"  
  
"Super glue,"  
  
"Ah,"  
  
With a crash, a stapler came flying through the office and Eli ducked to avoid it. She stared at the projectile stapler for a few moments before looking back to Danny.  
  
"Is there anything I can do to help you before I give into my urge to flee?"  
  
"Do you have a phone?"  
  
Eli dug into her pocket and practically threw it at Danny.  
  
"Keep it," Eli said after hearing the roar of a predator out in the precinct. This place was center of weirdness. Odd things were happening all over the city; things that usually wouldn't faze her, but these odd things seemed to be occurring in a very supernatural way.  
  
She ran towards the door of the precinct, passing a woman holding a motorcycle helmet, and a dangerous-looking man dressed in black. The woman had emerald eyes, with a 'don't-mess-with-me-I-can-cause-you-so-much-hurt' sort of presence".  
  
The man looked as though he could easily snap someone's neck in two without blinking. Eli moved a bit farther away from him. Though he was drop dead gorgeous, he looked like one of the people she had seen in "Assassins' Monthly". (Yes. There is such a magazine, and she has a subscription to it. Now shush.) Except there was one thing that made her stop and stare at him as he went into the precinct.was that a bunny he was holding?  
  
**************************************************************************** *********  
  
"Johnson, state your position,"  
  
"East wing, upper floor,"  
  
"Roger that. Any sign of him?"  
  
"No, not yet. But we've had reports of disturbance in this area,"  
  
"Keep sharp up there, Johnson. This guy can do a lot of damage,"  
  
Johnson walked down the hall cautiously, his gun drawn. He checked the first room he came to, then continued down the corridor in the same fashion. He reached the final door, and heard movement inside.  
  
"Daniels, intruder in spare room. I'm going to check it out."  
  
"Johnson, do not approach. Repeat, do not approach. Wait for back up," Daniels' voice crackled over the headset.  
  
"I can take him, sir,"  
  
"Johnson, no!!!"  
  
There was the sound of a gun shot, a crash, and the sound of struggle soon stopped, and all that could be heard was the cackling of a child; then static.  
  
Daniels, the assistant head of security for Kenneth Iron's estate, sighed as he tore his headset off. 'Just tranquilize him' Nottingham had said. It sounded easy in principal, but not when you were dealing with a resourceful, insane multi-billionaire. Even worse.that was the second guy he had lost today.  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
"Danny?"  
  
Sara pushed the door open to reveal the empty office. She walked over to where he had last been, only to find a pair of pants and a belt on the empty chair. Looks like he got through to Lee...or things got so bad that his pants were the last thing on his mind.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~  
  
Nottingham looked around the upper level of the station house while Sara went to help her partner. The precinct was indeed a Zoo. Monkeys, tigers...~and bears...oh my~ Ian raised his eyebrow in puzzlement as he heard a voice in his head add the last phrase. That had been happening a lot lately...that may very well be where the idea of Moscow had come from.  
  
The monkey hanging from the ceiling fan above him took this time to jump down and grab the assassin in a headlock. Nottingham struggled with his primate opponent for a few moments before grabbing it by the back of its neck. It hit him over the head repeatedly with a phone, until Ian tore it away from the monkey, and threw the primate onto a desk. As he was staring at the monkey, who, oddly enough reminded him of someone...the phone began to ring in his hand.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hi...is this Detective Pezzini's office?"  
  
Ian recognized the voice as Dr. Vicki Poe's, an acquaintance of Sara's.  
  
"Not at this exact moment, but I am capable of walking over and giving her the phone, if that is what you mean,"  
  
"Uh...sure. Just hurry," Vicki paused, "Who is this?"  
  
'A paid assassin, the Wielder's Protector, and Sara's admirer,' "I am a friend of detective Pezzini," he replied simply.  
  
"Ah,"  
  
Obviously, the Doctor was surprised to hear this.  
  
"Sara, the phone is for you," Sara took it from Ian with a questioning look.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Sara, I need some help down here,"  
  
"Vicki? What's going on?"  
  
"Just get down here, please!"  
  
"All right,"  
  
"C'mon Nottingham," said Sara, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him towards the morgue.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Author's Note: I can't take it any more...REVIEW!!!!  
  
~There~ I said it. Whew. I don't know when the next chapter is coming. I write this story while in school, usually while in Math class. (Which is *such* a bad idea, since I'm sooooo close to failing Math.) I'll update as soon as possible! I promise. No more spontaneous trips out of the country until I do. 


	6. VI God of Mischief knows best

Hm...chocolate? Heh. Thanks Redmayne. And Sierra, much chocolate to you for not writing a crass e-mail. Much thanks to everyone who reviewed, especially Redmayne, Sierra Windfire, Eli, Julia, DKM, Riyallyn, and rougegal17.  
  
Disclaimer: It is not mine. It's not. I promise I'm making no money off this. Except maybe off a bet with my friends that I can fit this many odd things into a Witchblade fic. All rights go to Top Cow. I've given up on TnT...  
  
A/N: One that note...anyone have odd things they wish to see in the story? Some one has asked me to fit lederhosen into this story, but I'm not sure how I'm going to manage that one...  
  
Feedback: Reviews = more chapters. Give chocolate. The more hyper I am, the later I stay awake. The later I stay awake, the more I write. The more I write, the more likely I am to make this fiction odder and quirkier. Hehe. Thanks much.  
  
And now, to the feature presentation...  
  
**************************************************************************** ************ Chapter VI **************************************************************************** *************  
  
Sara walked into the morgue, Ian following shortly behind.  
  
"Vicki?"  
  
There was no reply, and Sara immediately began to get a bad feeling about the silence. Ian too was silent, and she knew he was thinking the very same thing. Actually...she knew exactly what he was thinking...whatever the witchblade was up to, this seemed totally random. There is something wrong here...it smells like rancid meat. But what is that other smell...it's her, Sara felt him shift closer to her. She smells like flowers and vanilla...wait...it is near...  
  
A creature ambled into view that made Sara recoil. Ever seen "Night of the Living Dead?" Yeah...well, forget what those buggers looked like. This creature made those zombies look like friggin' Shirley Temple. (All depends on your opinion of Shirley temple, I suppose...)  
  
"Oh...please, twitchy, please tell me you didn't," Sara beseeched the glowing stone. The laughter was slightly more maniacal this time. Maybe she shouldn't have teased it as much as she had...  
  
"Lady Sara, do you suppose bullets will work?" Ian asked calmly.  
  
"I don't know Nottingham, what have you got?"  
  
"I believe that list will take more time than we currently have."  
  
"Then go with your gut instinct."  
  
Ian pulled a glock from under his trench coat, and emptied round into the un-dead creature. It had no effect whatsoever, except the creature became more enraged. Ian considered his options for a millisecond before pulling a knife from his concealed arsenal and chucking it at the zombie. It hit the creature square in the forehead, and it fell backwards, hopefully...well...more dead than undead.  
  
"How did you know to do that?"  
  
"Irons may have been a tyrant, but he did teach me some important life skills."  
  
"I don't know if that qualifies as a life skill..."  
  
"You're still breathing; aren't you?"  
  
Sara glared at the smiling assassin, and walked farther into the morgue, Ian following behind like a shadow. In fact, if she could not feel the occasional sweep of his trench coat against her, she would in fact mistake him for a shadow in her peripheral vision.  
  
~Can you truly see, wielder? You see, but you are blind...~  
  
Sara paused, listening to the voice. It emanated from the Witchblade, but it was not the voice she was accustomed to. Instead of being multiple feminine whispers, it was one, strong voice of a man. But the whispers were there too, and they warned her...  
  
Sara put her hand on Ian's arm, feeling the presence nearby, and nodded towards a cluttered area of Vicki's office.  
  
"Nottingham, to your left, behind the cart. Whatever it is, it isn't pretty,"  
  
She touched me again...wait...left...now to the right, up now...  
  
Nottingham pushed Sara back and lunged to his right side, stopping the assailant's arm from coming down on her head. He kept the creature at arms length before reaching over and snapping its neck. He walked calmly back over to Sara an inquired if she was all right.  
  
"Nottingham...how did you..."  
  
His features froze, and he made direct eye contact with Sara; then ducked down. The Witchblade was already formed on Sara's wrist, and she plunged it into the torso of the undead creature. It stared at her in confusion, and collapsed to the ground once the blade retracted. Nottingham looked up at her from the floor below, resting his arms on his knees as he squatted down. There was a gleam in his eye as he smiled, his face unreadable.  
  
"What are you looking at?"  
  
"That would be telling,"  
  
Sara sighed. "You confuse me, Nottingham."  
  
"Sara? Is that you?" a muffled voice called.  
  
"Vicki? Where are you?"  
  
"I believe her voice is coming from that wall," said Ian, pointing over to the wall lined with the built in freezers for bodies.  
  
"It's getting reeeaaaally cold in here, Pez,"  
  
Sara dashed over to the wall and began opening the compartments. Ian started on the other end and the third one he opened revealed the quite- living body of Vicki Poe.  
  
"Hello Dr. Poe,"  
  
Ian held out his hand and helped Vicki down from the sliding bed, then shut the door behind her.  
  
"Hello." Vicki paused, "Sara's friend, I presume?"  
  
"Yes, Ian Nottingham, at your service, Dr. Poe,"  
  
My god...he's gorgeous,  
  
Sara narrowed her eyes upon hearing her friend's though. She suddenly felt very territorial.  
  
Vicki looked away from Ian and to Sara, with some misgiving.  
  
"Hey Sara...there are some pretty strange things going on."  
  
"Yeah. I've noticed." Sara looked around the morgue, "How many of those things were there?"  
  
"Just the two," Vicki said, "One was the body I already autopsied...I have no clue how I'm going to explain the reports now..."  
  
"What? 'Came-back-to-life-and-had-to-be-killed,----again' isn't acceptable?"  
  
"Funny. Very funny," Poe walked back over to her desk, "Do you think there could be more? Maybe one got out of the freezer, or the bodies already in the other cold storage.  
  
"I don't know. I guess Nottingham and I could stay here for a while to make sure there aren't any more. I don't really want to go back upstairs anyway."  
  
Sara watched Ian as he wandered throughout the morgue, either just casually looking around, or scouting out for danger.  
  
"So, Sara, what's his story?" Vicki asked quietly, "Are you two..."  
  
"No," Sara replied, perhaps to hastily, "We're just friends."  
  
"Then maybe you could put in a good word for me..."  
  
"I don't think he's your type," Sara said, "Anyway, I think you've caught the attention of a certain blond rookie."  
  
"McCarty? Really?"  
  
"Yup,"  
  
"Hm. So you're sure there isn't anything going on between you and the knight in shining armor over there?"  
  
"I'm sure," Sara replied, slightly taken aback by Vicki's comparison. But in doing so, she was forced to think about it...and suddenly she wasn't so sure...  
  
~*~  
  
"Ah, hello, Protector,"  
  
Ian blinked, suddenly aware of new surroundings. He had been in the morgue of the precinct, and in a flash of red light he was here. Darkness all around, lit only by the swirling fog. Up above was a moon, running red like the jewel of the Witchblade. In fact...it looked exactly like the jewel of the Witchblade.  
  
"Welcome to the limbo of the Witchblade," a male voice called out.  
  
"How is it that I come to be here? I thought it was impossible for men to enter into this realm..."  
  
"Never impossible, young Ian. But today it has become far easier. And the way your wielder is going, it my just be an open house all week."  
  
A man dressed in a black robe, lined with silver, stepped out of the fog. He looked much alike to Ian, but not identical. They could easily pass for fraternal brothers, however.  
  
"I have no true form, but I have taken a liking to you, Ian. So modest, and unappreciated, like I was for a while. You are a very attractive man in their world, you know. Once you realize that, you may get somewhere with that love of your life."  
  
Ian merely shrugged, unable to think of anything else to say in response.  
  
"Do you know who I am?"  
  
"I am assuming that you are Loki, god of mischief, mayhem, and miscommunication,"  
  
"Ah yes, the three M's." Loki sighed, "I don't have much of a point as a God, once you think about it. Except to cause trouble for all the others. Oh well."  
  
"Why have you brought me here?"  
  
"All in good time, Ian, all in good time. We have much to discuss, much trouble to cause."  
  
"I believe enough trouble has been caused." Ian stated, "You could have gotten the Wielder killed."  
  
"Ah, but she did not get injured. You protected her, did you not?"  
  
"I did,"  
  
"That is your job. But..." Loki stopped pacing and turned to look at Ian, "...did she even thank you for that?"  
  
"No. She is not obligated to."  
  
"What happened to common courtesy? Next thing you'll tell me is that chivalry is dead,'  
  
"Loki..." Ian was beginning to become slightly annoyed with this apparition's babbling.  
  
"Well, I suppose I could lay off the violent aspect, but that takes so much of the fun out of it, Ian."  
  
"I'm sure you can find ways to amuse yourself that do not involve getting Lady Sara hit by large Semi trucks."  
  
"That was only because she tried to escape from the Witchblade. Her essence and I did not take kindly to that,"  
  
"Why do you insist on putting her through this?"  
  
"Because you need to learn to lighten up. All of you. As a species on the whole, you are uptight, humorless pricks. I thought you would appreciate this more, Ian. Everyone treats you like dirt. You father beats you, esteemed 'Lady' despises you. That's even worse that the physical beatings, isn't it?"  
  
"She does not despise me." Ian said firmly.  
  
"But she does not return your affection."  
  
"Lady Sara is..."  
  
"Is? Is? Is what, Ian? Out of reach for you, the unobtainable jem? Or perhaps you place her so far up on a pedestal in your mind that you are unable to reach her in the real world. 'You know, so many Protectors realize their destiny to be with the Wielder, to love...you have realized this...but she hasn't. Very insensitive of her, if you ask me." Loki paused, pacing around. The fog moved about his feet as he did so, his cape engulfing the light.  
  
"Perhaps we should show her what she's missing. I know she feels it somewhere deep inside her, but just refuses to admit it. And Irons didn't help much in that area. You're practically a monk, and she thinks you're practically his slave."  
  
Loki paused again, reconsidering his words, "Well, you're not his slave, but bound to him through duty, blah, deblah, deblah. But you're even more so bound to Sara. The Blade has been trying to get you to notice that, but nooooo, you wouldn't listen."  
  
"Dammit, what are you trying to say?!" shouted Ian, surprised by his own reaction.  
  
"Oo, have I hit a nerve? Awfully sorry," Loki stopped pacing and leaned in, placing a hand on Ian's shoulder, "This may cause some embarrassment for you and your Lady throughout the next week, or whenever the hell I decide to end my reign...but I'm sure it's for the best, dear Ian. Maybe these guys will give you some pointers."  
  
Loki reached over and slapped a band onto Ian's wrist. It was made of metal, and had interweaving Celtic designs on it, possibly something from the Book of Kells. Ian looked from the band to Loki in confusion.  
  
"Have a fun ride. Take two and see me in the morning,"  
  
**************************************************************************** ************  
  
A/N: ::Stops frolicking around::  
  
Hope you liked. I haven't begged pathetically for reviews this chapter. I think *I* should get some chocolate. And gummi worms. And...and...sunflowers seeds and that blue *frost* Gatorade. Hehehe  
  
I shall right more as soon as I can...I have an über project assigned for over spring break. Unfortunately, that takes precedence over this story. ::cries:: I shall return as soon as I can. ::grabs her notebook and literary books, and hikes into the great unknown of English class:: 


	7. VII Go fish and Mark Antony!

Much thanks to Riyallyn, Maragaige, Cindy, Redmayne (thanks for the bribes!!!), Julia, Owlwitch, Fae Rain, too!!! And Sierra Windfire: purple bunnies and blue birdie peeps for reviewing, and the ideas. I think they're good ideas...;P. And Eli, on the subject of Loki...be afraid...be very afraid...thanks for the cell phone. You'll get it back, I promise. Thanks for all the feedback!!! I love it!!! It makes me happy. And when I am happy, my muse is happy. I shall make updating a number one priority!!!  
  
Disclaimer: No mine. I'd give up all my Easter candy for it, though. ;P  
  
Archive: Just ask my friends, and ye shall receive. (Well...most likely)  
  
Feedback: ::Eyebrow twitches, but RavenX manages to say nothing::  
  
::Chases the Easter Bunny around the house and into the yard, yelling:: ::notices people are watching and stops::  
  
(A/N): Hehe...well, I guess I shouldn't blame the Easter Bunny for giving my muse too much chocolate. Or for sending most of that chocolate to my hips...arg. LoL. Here's the next chapter. Enjoy!  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
Chapter VII **************************************************************************** *************  
  
"IAN!"  
  
Ian was jarred back to reality by the slightly worried voice of Sara Pezzini.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"It's your turn. Must have been some daydream. She's been yelling at you for a couple of minutes now," laughed Vicki.  
  
"Yeah. Something like that." Ian glanced over to Sara, who was looking at him inquisitively.  
  
"Have any fives?"  
  
"Go fish,"  
  
Ian drew from the pile of cards. And sighed, looking at the smiling face of the queen of hearts. As he looked at the card, the queen on it suddenly winked at him, the bracelet of the Witch appearing quite evident on the Queen's wrist. He felt something enter his body, and Ian glanced to the band on his bare wrist, which had begun to glow.  
  
Tendrils from it were creeping up his hand, over the gloves, towards his ring. He quickly took off the glove on his right hand, put the ring back, and covered it over with the glove. He could still feel the tendrils moving from his wrist under the glove, but at least it would be less noticeable.  
  
"Ian? Are you alright?" Sara and Vicki were looking at him rather concernedly.  
  
"I do not believe so, Lady Sara."  
  
Sara noticed the slight glow from under the table, where Ian was hiding his right wrist.  
  
"Hey Vick, I think we need to get going. It doesn't look like the undead will be causing much trouble."  
  
"Okay Sara. Thanks for uh...saving me from my own autopsy patient..." Vicki's features became puzzled, "What weapon did you use on the last one? Looked like a pretty deep wound..."  
  
"You'll be pretty surprised with what Ian can fit in that coat." Sara interjected quickly.  
  
"I'm sure I would," Vicki said with a grin.  
  
"Lets go, Ian,"  
  
Ian picked up his trench coat and his rabbit, and followed Sara out of the morgue. She stopped out in a dark hallway of the basement, lighted only by the red 'EXIT' sign. Ian put his coat back on; covering all traces of his well defined muscles, and slipped the rabbit back into his pocket.  
  
"What's going on Ian? Are you sure you're still unaffected by this thing?" Sara gestured to the happily growing bracelet.  
  
"I very much hope so,"  
  
"Then what's that on your wrist?"  
  
Sara grabbed his hand before he could pull away, and pulled back the sleeve of his coat. She stared at the band on his wrist, and looked to the Witchblade, which in turn pulled her, unwillingly, into a vision.  
  
********"Hello, Sara,"  
  
She was in a place she usually found herself in dreams, in the mist of the Witchblade. The red moon glowed down from above, but cast none of its colour onto the fog. Before her stood one of the previous wielders, but one that she had never met before.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"Always getting right to the point, Sara. Ever just enjoy idle chit-chat?"  
  
"The blade always has an alterative motive for what it does. Getting straight to the point saves time I don't have."  
  
"Usually," the former wielder said, "But not always."  
  
"Who are you?" repeated Sara, having had enough cryptic news for one day.  
  
"I am Morrigan. I was a wielder in the Past Ages, long before the Christians' savior. I was a Pagan wielder."  
  
"But I thought that the blade was connected only to..."  
  
"God?" Morrigan smiled, "That's what the church wished to be believed by the population. The Witchblade does not discriminate based on religion. There are gods, some good, some evil, some..."  
  
"Like me,"  
  
A man walked from the mist and slipped his arm around Morrigan's waist. He looked nearly identical to Nottingham.  
  
"A joy to see you again, mi'sweet,"  
  
"As I you, Loki. Enjoying your stay?" inquired Morrigan.  
  
"Thrilled as always,"  
  
"*You're* Loki?"  
  
"Yes, Wielder. I am Loki, Protector of the Wielder Morrigan, God of Mischief, and eternal servant to the blade," he made a sweeping bow, "It's always been a joy to be invited to visit for the week."  
  
"The week?" Sara asked, in a mix between horror and incredulity.  
  
"Yes. You're a quite stubborn woman, you know,"  
  
"Oh...you can't be serious."  
  
Loki only smiled.  
  
"I find your denial amusing, but it grows tiresome."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"You'll see, wielder, you'll see..." ********  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Sara looked up, suddenly back in the precinct's basement, and met Ian's gaze.  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
"Not for much longer, based the way they're talking," replied Sara, gesturing to the blade.  
  
Ian got a far off look in his eye upon hearing this.  
  
"Know anything about that, Protector?"  
  
"Know anything about what, my love?" Ian asked, stepping waaaaaaayyyyyyy to close to her.  
  
"Nottingham?" Sara asked, taking a step back.  
  
"Who?" he asked, stepping into her personal space again.  
  
"What's wrong with you?!" Sara demanded, taking another step back.  
  
"What are you talking about, my love?" Ian asked.  
  
"What's with this 'my love' crap? Ian...are you drunk?"  
  
"No," Ian said, advancing on her again.  
  
"You're acting very strange, Nottingham. Very strange. You're aware of this, right?" asked Sara, taking yet another step back, only to realize that she was up against the wall.  
  
"I am not the one acting strange, Cleo."  
  
Sara froze as she processed what Ian had addressed her by.  
  
"Mark? Mark Antony?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
By this point, Ian was extremely close to Sara, far past invading her personal space, and his arm moved to the wall, blocking her escape. Sara glanced down to the Witchblade, which was glowing brighter than it had all day.  
  
Sara's eyes locked with Ian's as he looked down at her with a gleam in those beautiful caramel eyes. She tried to will her body to more away, but she could not. Later she would blame this muscle malfunction on the Blade, but she knew that the malevolent bracelet had not been the only thing keeping her there.  
  
Ian/Marc Antony's hand moved to her waist, and leaned down, capturing her mouth in a passionate kiss. His taste was so familiar, his mouth so welcoming. Her hand went to the back of Ian's neck, entwining her fingers in his long hair.  
  
"Way to go Pez!"  
  
Sara broke the kiss abruptly, enticing a moan from Ian/Marc. She turned to see Jake, Burgess and one other cop standing near the doorway.  
  
"Rookie, if you breathe a word of this..." Sara growled.  
  
"Who knew it? Pez is actually getting some," the other cop laughed.  
  
"I'm thinking of a finger, Smith, and it sure as hell ain't a thumbs up," Sara hissed. Sara turned to Nottingham, but he once again had that cloudy, far off look in his eyes.  
  
"Wait until Danny gets a load of this," Jake laughed.  
  
"Gets a load of what?"  
  
Danny stepped out of the shadows, (conveniently for the writer, who had to find a way to get Sara and Ian out of the basement and away from Jake; but inconveniently for Jake, who shall soon find the true meaning of pain.) and Jake froze.  
  
"Uh...hiya partner...glad to see you're up and about...and that you have pants..."  
  
Danny only smiled manically, and made a fake start towards Jake, who then ran up the steps. Danny nodded to Sara and continued on, calmly but swiftly pursuing the rookie.  
  
The other two detectives were receiving death glares from Ian, and decided it would be a good idea to leave the immediate area, rather quickly.  
  
Sara watched the two detectives leave and then turned to face Nottingham.  
  
"What the fuck were you thinking?!"  
  
"What the fuck were you thinking?!"  
  
Ian only gave her a confused look.  
  
"I do not know of what you speak, La...Sara," Ian replied, focusing his eyes on the floor.  
  
"You zoned out on me, then started calling me Cleo; and getting way too touchy-feely," said Sara. Though it was one of the more enjoyable things that has happened in the past month... Sara mentally slapped herself.  
  
"Ah," Ian mused.  
  
"Ah?"  
  
"Well, in my vision which regrettably interrupted our card game, Loki hinted towards something like this, and I believe I have figured it out. I am currently fighting off a barrage of voices in my mind. They seem to be the essences, minds of the other Protector. And I believe they are, for short intervals..."  
  
Ian paused, trying to figure out how to word it, "...possessing me, or at least inhabiting my body from time to time. I am at times aware of this. I believe I can try to keep them under control, but..."  
  
Ian fell silent again, and got the clouded look in his eye again.  
  
"Nottingham?" Sara inquired, "Ian? Hello?"  
  
"IAN!"  
  
There was no reply.  
  
*******~******~*********~********~*********~********~********~******~**  
  
A/N: I know, I know. A cliffhanger. Sorry, but it was the best place to end it.  
  
Reason for delayed posting: I'm on break, and recently went to the land of the hippies, and ever since, have been slightly out of it. And really sore. A six mile hike, uphill. ::Ouch::  
  
Please Review. I wish for reviews more than chocolate. Chocolate *and* reviews...well...that'd be just wonderful! (And sunflower seeds. The salted ones.) Maragaige has the right idea! LoL. ::returns to her painkiller induced hibernation in front of the tv:: ::muse pulls her back to the computer and duct tapes her to the chair::  
  
Slan Agat!  
  
-X of the IrishRaven persuasion. 


	8. VIII Iye, indeed?

::Skips about merrily at all the reviews she got:: Thank you soooooooo much, folks. You've made my week! (And helped lessen the horrors of returning to school today...arg) Special thanks to: Shinara (::muse kicks Raven for effect and eats the chocolate::), Eli (your cell phone is a couple of time zones away by now), DKM, Sierra Windfire (it means goodbye in Irish-Gaelic), Fae Rain (::sets out to find a cure for this chocolate allergy::), Riyallyn, Cindy, Julia, Spin, Msredux, Jenileigh, Lily, Redmayne (Mmm...), and everyone else who reviewed.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never was. Except in that one alternate universe...but you need not be worried with that...  
  
And now...the feature presentation:  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
Chapter VIII **************************************************************************** *************  
  
"IAN CHRISTIAN NOTTINGHAM!"  
  
Ian blinked and looked at Sara in confusion.  
  
"Mi'Lady...'tis a surprise ta' see you again.Iye had thought you..." the thick Irish accent caught Sara off guard, but Ian stopped, looking around in confusion.  
  
"Where am Iye?"  
  
"New York City. One eleventh precinct," Sara replied, "Could you do me a favor? Tell me your name is?"  
  
"Samuel," he replied, "Samuel-Patrick Balin,"  
  
"Oh boy," sighed Sara, "Well, I'm Sara Pezzini. A pleasure to meet you."  
  
"Sara?"  
  
"Yes, don't ask questions. Just come with me, and whatever you do, don't say any thing to anyone unless I tell you to. We need to get to Irons. It sounded like whatever is going on over there is pretty bad. Then we need to check in with Gabriel, see if he's found any way to reverse this all."  
  
Sara grabbed Ian/Samuel by the arm and dragged him towards the stairs. Ian/Samuel complied without protest. Sara smiled to her self. The Protector, ever trusting of his ward. They entered the precinct, where things were getting even odder.  
  
The officers were now completely trashing the office. There were suspects ut of their holding cells, zoo animals running about, and a monkey hanging from a ceiling fan. A monkey that looked like.Dante? Sara pulled her gun from its holster, and aimed it at the primate, trying to get a good shot...  
  
"Uy...L'dy Sara? Wha' exactly are you attemptin' ta' do?"  
  
Sara glanced over to Ian/Samuel, then back to the monkey.  
  
"Nothing," she said hastily, re-holstering her gun.  
  
Ian/Samuel looked about the office, his eyes widening as he did so.  
  
"Wha's..."  
  
"Ian...Samuel...whoever, please don't ask. The sooner we get out of here, the better. Just consult the guy whose body you're inhabiting. I'm sure he'll explain."  
  
With that, Sara hauled Ian/Samuel towards the door, and out into what passed for fresh air in NYC.  
  
"Aye. Tha' explains 't," Ian/Samuel said, snapping out of his daze. Sara began to walk towards her motorcycle, but Ian/Samuel stopped, sensing an abnormal weight in his pocket. He reached in and pulled out a rabbit, looking at it quizzically.  
  
"Ian's new little friend,"  
  
"A rabbit?"  
  
"Don't ask,"  
  
Sara walked out into the parking lot and over to her motorcycle.  
  
Ian/Samuel looked around in confusion, then down to the car keys he now held in his hand.  
  
"Lady Sara, Iye fear that Iye am quite unable ta' drive, being it that Iye don't possess knowledge of any automobiles; as Ian has just pointed out," Samuel protested, tapping the side of his head.  
  
"They we'll take my bike. I have and extra..." Sara trailed off as she saw a monkey run across the parking lot with the spare motorcycle helmet. Sara sighed.  
  
"Figures,"  
  
Samuel/Ian stared after the primate as Sara dragged him towards the SUV.  
  
She climbed into the car, and Ian/Samuel paused for a moment.  
  
"The other side," Sara sighed, gesturing to the passenger side door.  
  
Ian/Samuel finally managed to work the handle of the car door,  
  
"Why is his car so dirty?" Sara wondered aloud, seeing the mud caked onto its black surface as she climbed into the SUV. Ian/Samuel shrugged, and mimicked Sara in putting on his seat belt.  
  
Sara gunned the motor and they peeled out of the parking lot. Ian/Samuel craned his neck, looking up at the skyscrapers in awe, and occasionally cringing as Sara swerved through traffic. Be it motorcycle or SUV, she liked to switch lanes quite frequently.  
  
"Mi'Lady, the body Iye am inhabitin' has a sudden urge ta' go throu' those mud puddles," Samuel noted as they passed a rather messy area of dirt.  
  
"Does he now?" Sara laughed. "That explains the mud on the car..."  
  
"Does this Ian hav' much fun?" Samuel asked after a pause.  
  
"Ian. he doesn't get out much,"  
  
"You un' he do not spend much time toget'her?"  
  
"No, not usually, no,"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"We're not that close,"  
  
Samuel nodded understandingly.  
  
"Mi' wielder and Iye were not close. Iye loved 'er, but she did not return that affection."  
  
"What happened?" Sara asked, sensing that there was more he wished to say.  
  
"By th' time Laura realized tha' she did in fact love mi', tha' she 'ad been blinded by what society treated me as.it was too late,"  
  
"Too late?"  
  
"Iye was killed in battle," Samuel said plainly, staring straight ahead at the road.  
  
"Battle against whom?"  
  
Samuel was silent.  
  
"Have I missed something?"  
  
"The man oo' killed me was King Pelles, the brother of a druid Iye 'ad killed, wit'out much of a cause. Iye killed 'im for tha' secret of invisibility he possessed. Without Lauren's approval...Iye just wanted ta' be invisible...or in the state tha' Pelles finally put me."  
  
"You mean..."  
  
"Dead. Yeah. Iye wanted to die, but da' Blade prevented me from taking mi' own life. God knows Iye tried. It was a torture worse than death, ya' know. To see how much she despised me for being the man Iye was. The second to the king, I was. A man of power, but Iye allowed tha' King to take credit for the most Iye did. We were good friends, Arthur and Iye."  
  
"Take credit?"  
  
"Excalibur, for an' example. I wielded 't, but 't appeared so in history that he did. Tha' was fine wit me. Wit my dark past, Iye didn' blame 'em."  
  
Silence passed for a few moments.  
  
"He loves you, you know?"  
  
"What?!"  
  
But Ian/Samuel fell silent, the clouded look returning to his eyes.  
  
"Damn. This being-possessed shit has got to go. It's getting way to complicated..."  
  
"I apologize, Lady Sara, but the minds of certain protectors are too strong for me to repress." Ian said after a few moments.  
  
"Yeah, well, the last guy seemed to be a pretty powerful mind."  
  
"Thank you for putting up with it, Mi'Lady. I know it is an inconvenience to you."  
  
"Ian, there is no need to apologize. I should apologize to you for dragging you into this."  
  
Ian made no reply. Had Sara.apologized? To him? Was this truly Sara? He was tempted to reach over and check the temperature of the Detective's forehead. Perhaps she was sick...the glowing red eye of the blade caught his attention. Or perhaps Loki was trying to make good on his promise/threat... Sara steered the car up the hill, stopping at the large gates.  
  
"Please identify yourself," a voice emanated from the intercom attached to the structure of the gate.  
  
"Nottingham," replied Ian, leaning over Sara so that his voice could be heard.  
  
"Mr. Nottingham? Boy, are we glad to see you, sir,"  
  
"Explain, Mitchell,"  
  
Well...you see...Mr. Irons has captured the east wing, sir. And he is holding four hostages, three security guards and Dr. Immo." The security guard replied over the intercom.  
  
"I will be right up," Ian said, his voice void of any emotion that could be used to tell his mood.  
  
"He has hostages?" Sara said, mainly to herself as she steered the car up the driveway and towards the mansion, "Last time I checked, he wasn't all that violent."  
  
"Apparently the situation has changed drastically since I last checked in," Ian murmured.  
  
"Great,"  
  
"Perhaps it would be better if you went home, Sara. I don't want you to have to be involved in this." Ian said, catching onto Sara's exasperated tone.  
  
"What? And miss your employer acting like a five year-old? I don't think so, Nottingham."  
  
Ian sighed in defeat as Sara parked the car and got down gracefully, waiting for Ian to lead the way.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Slight writers block on this one. Please forgive me!!!  
  
Thanks again for the reviews. Keep it up and the next chapter will be really long...and much more interesting. Loki has a lot in store for our favorite perpetual couple. Muahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! 


	9. IX Pizza and Uhoh

(Thanks to Sierra windfire for catching that spelling goof early, so I could fix it!!!)  
  
Hellooooooooooooooooo. I am back from the tortures of school, alive. And taking a sick day. It's May Day anyway, so the rest of the school is probably doing the same. Hehe.  
  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed: owlwitch, Riyallyn, melanara, Jenileigh, Sierra Windfire (gladly takes the sunflower seeds), Eli (hehehe...I haven't decided if he's faking it yet...), msredux (I hope so too...), Shinara (Oooo...melikes chocolate...::muse grabs it away, then gives X a smaller piece:: Oh well.), Fae Rain (::goes down to her secret laboratory and gets to work::), Ms. Lessa (Ben&jerry's? ::gets right to work::) DKM, Julia (I'm trying to work in a way for her to get a clear shot at the monkey), Spin (muse like chocolate...muahahahaha.), Redmayne (Hope you didn't get to many odd looks...and about the frying pan...I'll take a rain check on that one.), and scooter (::gives spin the bunny::)  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own this. I mean no disrespect by totally messing up all the characters and putting them in outrageous situations. Well...maybe a little disrespect, but only towards TnT...::starts to make a rude gesture towards TnT for canceling Witchblade, but X manages to tackle Raven before she does:: Just don't sue us. We have no money.  
  
Feedback:: PLEASEOHPLEASEOHPLEASEOHPLEASE. Hehehe. Yeah...at least it's not in ten different languages this time.  
  
Archive: Just ask me first.  
  
As promised, a longer chapter.  
  
( ************ denotes change of POV, means we're goin' on a visit to see dear old Loki. ~*~*~*~*~*~ means...well, a change of some sort. Same POV but different area)  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
Chapter IX  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
Ian walked in the staff entrance and worked his way through the staff area of the mansion, getting a few greetings, and a few odd looks directed towards Sara. They entered what Sara inferred to be the security room. And it was a high-tech security office at that. The first thing Sara noticed was its clean and shininess. Second, it had all the most recent surveillance equipment, sensors for sensing things that Sara didn't know machines could ever sense. (A/N: Did that make much sense? Hope not. :P Hehe)  
  
Third.there was a coffee maker in the corner. The other security guards present just stepped out of the way as the detective made a mad dash towards the maker of caffeinated goodness.  
  
"Daniels, report. What's happened?"  
  
"Irons has gone insane, sir."  
  
"I'm quite aware of that. What has occurred since I left?"  
  
"Uh...well...he has four hostages, has barricaded himself in the upper east wing, and we're working on a plan to recapture it without hurting the hostages or Mr. Irons. We haven't had much training in capturing the oppressor alive in this situation. Mr. Irons made it quite clear that we were to kill any such offenders."  
  
"You would think with what you are paid, you would make an attempt to broaden your horizons without being commanded to," Nottingham sighed.  
  
"We have a plan sir," Mitchell said, trying to redeem himself and the security team, "We would scale the outside wall and come in through the windows."  
  
"The windows in that wing are bulletproof, we would require the anti- bulletproof-windows guns," mused Ian.  
  
"We have some in the basement," one of the guards quipped up.  
  
"But wouldn't the sensors alert him to the attack? He has one of the security monitoring stations in that area," Daniel added.  
  
"Well, if we use..."  
  
"Uh, boys?" Sara called, breaking the feeling of testosterone that was beginning to run through the room.  
  
All eyes turned to her, some first realizing that she was in the room. A few guards looked her over, some thing she was used to, but Sara swore she could hear Ian growl at them.  
  
"Who are you?" inquired Mitchell.  
  
"She's with me," Ian replied.  
  
Sara could definitely sense some possessiveness coming from Ian, but she decided to let it slide. It was probably due to the testosterone after the macho-invasion-planning.  
  
"Irons has been acting like a five year-old, right?"  
  
Ian nodded.  
  
"Well...has anyone tried talking to him? Offering him some toys, or lunch or something? Maybe he's cranky..."  
  
The security guards exchanged enlightened glances, and Sara returned to nursing her coffee. The men went back to their strategy planning, Sara not caring, or not noticing, that she was being left out as they cast glances her way amid the whispering  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Fifteen minutes later, Sara found herself walking down the hallway towards the east wing, with Ian at her side. Sara was not particularly happy about being pulled away from the coffeemaker, and Ian seemed to pick up on the vibe that Sara didn't want to be there.  
  
"Sara, are you sure..."  
  
"Yes, Nottingham. I am absolutely sure I am up to this and relatively sure that I can pull this off."  
  
"I could go..."  
  
"Ian, have you ever dealt with children before?"  
  
"Well..." Ian was going to say something, but though better of it, "...uh...no..."  
  
"Then just watch and learn,"  
  
"He is not a normal child, Lady Sara."  
  
"That's the way most of them seem. And it's just Sara, Ian."  
  
They continued down the halls in silence for a few moments, and Ian looked over at Sara. She was not walking at her usual fast pace, instead slowing to match Ian's pace. He was attempting to walk a stride behind her, but she would have none of it.  
  
"How do you know so much about children?" inquired Ian.  
  
"I was the only teenage girl in my neighborhood. I had a lot of babysitting jobs."  
  
Ian fell silent for a few moments, deep in thought, hoping that Sara was not privy to those thoughts.  
  
"I never saw you as a motherly figure,"  
  
This time it was Sara who fell silent. She didn't know how to reply to that one.  
  
"Sir, you're approaching the hallway now." Daniel's voice eminating from the headsets finally broke the silence. Since their macho plans had been scratched, they insisted that they wear the headsets to preserve some of the commando effect.  
  
They two turned down the designated hallway, their paces becoming more cautious. Ian pushed open the first door they came to. It was empty. And so they continued down the hall in a similar fashion, until they reached the last door of the hallway. Sara tried the doorknob, but it was locked from the inside.  
  
Ian stepped back, preparing to kick it down, but Sara grabbed his arm, shaking her head.  
  
"Let's try knocking first," she suggested. If Kenneth was really acting like a child...that would scare the bejesus out of him. Big puddle of bejesus...  
  
Sara stepped forward and knocked loudly on the wooden surface.  
  
"Kenneth? Are you in there?"  
  
There was movement from within the room and the muffled sound of a man's voice.  
  
"Kenneth, we just want to talk to you. It's just me: Sara, and Mr. Nottingham."  
  
The sound of a key being turned could be heard, then the knob turned slowly. The door opened a crack, and Sara could see Kenneth's pale blue eyes looking out at her.  
  
"Tell him to get rid of all his weapons," Kenni commanded.  
  
Sara looked to Ian, who begrudgingly complied. A minute or so later, there was a pile of weapons on the floor, past Sara's knees.  
  
"What, no Uzi?"  
  
"That's in my other trench coat." Ian smiled, and Sara only shook her head. She wasn't telling him, but she was definitely enjoying the humorous and semi-normal side of Ian.  
  
"Where do you keep all that stuff?"  
  
"Do you really want to know?" Ian inquired with a smirk.  
  
"Uh...I suppose not," Sara sighed, then turned to Kenneth.  
  
"Okay, Kenneth, can we come in now?"  
  
Kenni nodded, and slowly opened the door, stepping back from the two as they entered.  
  
"What do you want?" Kenni asked.  
  
Sara walked into the interior of the room, but Ian stayed near the door, keeping between Sara and Kenneth. She glanced cautiously to Irons, who was looking at the floor like a child who knew he did something wrong. It was very, very odd. But she didn't have much time to think of it, once she glanced to the opposite wall.  
  
"Uh...hello Dr. Immo..."  
  
Ian walked over to where Sara stood, and blinked in surprise as he saw Dr. Immo, and three of his security officers: Eric Johnson, Nick Baisely, and Gregory Moore. The mere sight of them was not surprising or disturbing. The fact that they were bound, gagged, propped up against the wall and stripped down to their underwear...*that* was the disturbing aspect.  
  
"Kenni...why don't they have their clothes on?" Sara inquired slowly.  
  
"They always do that in the television shows."  
  
"Yes, but that's usually so they can use that person's uniform to pose as someone they're not,"  
  
"Oh," replied Kenni, walking away and mumbling to himself in German.  
  
"So, Kenni, when do you plan on letting these guys go?"  
  
"I dunno. I didn't really have a plan..."  
  
"Well.why don't you let them go now, and maybe we can go downstairs and have some pizza for dinner?"  
  
"Pizza? Das ist Italienisch, ja? Das ist sehr Lecker!!!" Kenni said enthusiastically. Sara shrugged, not knowing German, but took it as a positive reaction.  
  
Kenneth and Sara walked from the room, leaving Ian with the four gagged men, who all emitted sighs of relief through their gags as soon as Irons left the room.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Do you know who I am, Kenni?" Sara asked awkwardly.  
  
Sara looked over to Irons. The Witchblade swirled, and for a split second, instead of the Irons she knew, there was a small child walking beside her.  
  
"No...but you look like the lady-friend of Daddy's bodyguard."  
  
"Who's your Daddy's body guard?"  
  
"Christian Fallcenio" Kenni pondered something for a few moments, "He looks a lot like Herr Ian. Vati was always very unhappy when he saw Christian and her together."  
  
"What was the lady's name?"  
  
"Kathlyn, I think. Kathlyn O'Reilly. She is very beautiful. Father said she was sent away to a boarding school. I haven't seen her in a while," Kenni looked around, as if he feared someone was listening, "But I think she was with child. Herr Christian went away a week after she left, and father was very angry."  
  
Sara glanced down at the Blade, which was still active, as it had been all day. The bracelet was not longer scalding hot as it had been earlier, instead, it was now cool against her skin. Perhaps it had more purpose in this torture than the amusement of Loki.  
  
"Kathlyn had a bracelet much like yours..."  
  
Kenni reached out to touch the eye of the bracelet, but quickly pulled back.  
  
"Father told me never to touch it," he said quietly, "He said that I am not worthy of it."  
  
Sara looked to Kenneth, feeling more pity for the man than she ever had before. Though it contradicted what she had at first believed it...maybe Irons was not born evil...  
  
"What would you like on your pizza?" Sara asked, forcing herself out of her daze.  
  
"Weisswurst?"  
  
"Uh...how about pepperoni?"  
  
**************************************************************************** ***********  
  
Ian strapped the final weapon in its place, and walked back into the room, where the four men were composing themselves. He walked over to Dr. Immo, who was tying his shoes. When he finished, Ian handed him his tie.  
  
"I'm very sorry about this, Dr. Immo," Ian apologized.  
  
"I must say, it wasn't what I was expecting to spend my day doing..."  
  
Ian glanced to the clock on the wall.  
  
5:11  
  
The three security guards stood near the door, having a quiet but intense conversation.  
  
"Dr. Immo, would you like me to have the cook prepare dinner for you?"  
  
"NO!" Immo flinched at his own words, "I mean...no thank you. I think I'll go home to eat. I promised my wife I'd cook today."  
  
The prevailing thought of the people in the room at this comment was, 'Dr. Immo has a wife?' A/N:(Except the wolfhound that was sitting next to Ian and nuzzling his coat pocket, who thought 'Does he have a rabbit in his pocket?')  
  
Dr. Immo finished putting on his tie, and hurried out the door.  
  
"Alright gentlemen, lets get back to..."  
  
The band on Ian's wrist lit up, and a bright flash of light brought him into the temporary domain of Loki.which at that exact moment was an office.. The secretary motioned to a chair in the waiting room, which Ian sat down in, not really knowing what else to do. It wasn't exactly a waiting room.it was the limbo of the Witchblade.with uncomfortable chairs and a secretaries desk in front of a lone office, the mist swirling around it.  
  
"Well, hello Ian. It's been a while! Please, come into my office. Take a seat." Loki called from within the structure.  
  
Ian walked into the office, mist swirling around his feet as he did. The office was complete with a desk, chairs, file cabinets and other office furniture. A pile of paper appeared in the "IN" box, which Loki picked up.  
  
"What do you want?" Ian asked, not sitting down.  
  
"Were you about to send those men back to work?" inquired Loki, as he put the aforementioned papers through the shredder.  
  
"Yes,"  
  
"Wrong answer!" Loki hit a red button on the desk's surface, and Ian suddenly felt an electric shock go through his body  
  
"I assure you they are paid well enough to be asked to do so."  
  
"Is that so, Ebenezer? I get the impression that the situation they just went through should entitle them to a bonus." Loki said, still shredding papers, "I know I would be slightly disturbed if my boss took me hostage for a couple of hours and made me do singalongs."  
  
"I did not know about the sing-alongs."  
  
"Well, ya' didn't ask, did you?" Loki waved his hand, and a chair came up from behind Ian, knocking him into sitting down.  
  
"I need to get back to Sara," protested Ian.  
  
"Time is currently frozen, my friend. I can keep you here inevitably! And you can't do a thing about it." Loki laughed maniacally, then after a few moments, sighed as he wiped a tear from his eye, finding this all much more amusing than Ian.  
  
"What do you want?! I have other problems to deal with rather than being a pawn for your personal amusement!"  
  
"What is it with you and that Wielder of yours? Maybe I don't have an ulterior motive! Maybe I just want to talk to you,"  
  
Ian gave him a doubtful glance, trying to regain control over his anger.  
  
"Okay, okay. I just want to figure out what your issue is. I'm giving you chances with your Lady left and right, and you aren't even acknowledging that! You need to make some moves, Ian, if you wish to attract her attention."  
  
Ian let out an agitated sigh and sat further back into his chair, wishing his weapons worked in this realm.  
  
"Hey, I was a lot like you in my youth. I was half-mortal, quiet, dangerous and forever in the shadows. But then I met Morrigan. I met my Lady, and I knew I wanted to spend eternity with her. And so, here I am. A God. Still dangerous and in the shadows, but I'm having much, *much* more fun."  
  
"And now you go around disturbing other people's lives?"  
  
"The pay is horrible, but the hours and perks are out of this world. Literally."  
  
The phone on the desk rang, and Loki reached over to pick it up.  
  
Ian sighed in aggravation, looking around the deity's office.  
  
"You need to have all the coffee makers begin to spout out toast? And all the hamburgers turned into veggieburgers and vice versa? Eh...I don't know, my schedule is pretty packed this week..." Loki caught the death glare Ian had aimed at him.  
  
"You know what, Bob? I'll have to call you back later, I'm in the middle of a rather important meeting right now. Okay...lunch on Friday? That would be great. Okay Bob. Say hi to the wife and nymphs for me." Loki hung up the phone, meeting Ian's glare.  
  
"Oo, look at the time," Loki glanced to his watch-less wrist, then back to Ian.  
  
"I suppose I should let you get back. You have much work to do, many old friends to see. And make sure to give those employees of yours some time off."  
  
Ian rose from his chair, and started towards the door of the oddly placed office.  
  
"Oh Ian..." Loki beckoned.  
  
Ian turned around to see Loki holding up a fluffy white bunny rabbit.  
  
"You almost forgot this,"  
  
Ian walked over and picked it up, placing it back into his pocket.  
  
"Thanks,"  
  
Never before had so much sarcasm been fit into one word by Ian Nottingham.  
  
He found himself back in the mansion before he could even finish his happy thoughts of obliterating Loki. The three security guards were looking at him expectantly.  
  
"I suppose the three of you should get the rest of the day..."  
  
Ian felt an intense shock go through his body, emanating from the band he wore on his wrist. He made sure to take a deep breath and count to ten before continuing. He was about to suggest them taking *two* days off, when his eye caught a gleam from the band.  
  
"Hell, just take the whole fucking week off," Ian said darkly, then walked out the door, the Wolfhound following in tow.  
  
The three security guards exchanged rather astounded glances, not really sure what to make of it all. It seemed that Irons was not the only one acting out of character...  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
A man with a black hair, a beard and sunglasses sat in an airport terminal, his nose buried in a newspaper. Jake looked over the newspaper cautiously, looking for any sign of Danny. He readjusted his fake beard, hoping it didn't fall out of place. He only had to hold out for three more hours, and he would be on a plane to San Francisco. He had managed to lose Danny somewhere in New Jersey and doubled back. He was now sitting in Terminal B of the JFK airport, counting his blessings. If Danny found him...Danny wasn't taking any prisoners. And Jake was fairly sure that the airport security would side with Danny...so, the sooner he got to California, the greater his odds of keeping his internal organs in the right places.  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
Muahahahahahahaaaaaaaa. Excuse my evil scheming laugh, but I have many ideas for the next few chapters. Kenni gets to go on a plane ride...he. Chaos ensues, as usual. I do feel writers block approaching again, but if any ya'll have some random things you want me to fit in...I like a challenge. I think that's the entire reason I wrote this thing...well, any how, reviewreviewreviewreviewreviewreview!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ::Makes a break for the television, but muse pulls her back and duct tapes her to the chair::  
  
Slan Agat.  
  
-X of the IrishRaven persuasion 


	10. Ghost of Christmas Past

Hello hello. Welcome back to the twisted world of IrishRaven. Today, we will be wreaking havoc on the population of New York... ::X pulls IrishRaven off stage::  
  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed: msredux (what are *you* thinking? ;P But sure, you can pet Ian's bunny...), Fae Rain (there shall be more Gabriel in the next few chapters, just 'cause you asked so nicely), Mili, Mako- chan Wolf (Hm...more randomness? I think that sounds like a brilliant idea!!! Muahahaha), DKM (Run Jake...run. For you have a very pissed Asian man close to kicking the crap out of you), Eli (I'll make sure Jake and Danny pay you a visit), Sierra Windfire (my muse has a life time supply of duct tape), Riyallan (LoL. Wait...No...tequila is good!!!;P), Jenileigh, LaFemmeLurker, Julia (sorry about that, but I'm glad you liked it!), scooter (gotta love the bunny!), Spin, and of course, Redmayne (Good luck with finals!!!)  
  
Disclaimer: Take a guess. You have a good chance of being right. ;P  
  
Feedback: ::X stays silent, but eye bulges slightly from its socket::  
  
If there are any grammar or spelling mistakes, I am dreadfully sorry. I don't have a beta, and usually don't give these a second glance after I write them. And if I do give them a second glance, it's well after midnight. Heheeeeeee.  
  
Well, onto the story!!  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
Chapter X  
  
The Animal Control truck drove past the one-eleventh precinct, screeched to a halt, and backed up. The man (whose name tag read "Bob") stared out in shock. He reached over and fumbled for his radio, trying to comprehend what he was seeing.  
  
"Headquarters, this is Bob on truck five...we have a major situation down at the 111th precinct...I'm requesting back up."  
  
"You want back up, truck five?" a woman's slightly confused voice crackled back. Rarely did anyone need back up on routine rounds.  
  
"Yes. Back up. I can't handle this on my own. Advise the local Zoo that they may have had a break out."  
  
"Roger that, truck five. Calling for back up now."  
  
Bob stepped out of the truck, and started towards the police station, very cautious. He suddenly had the sudden wish he had brought the tranquilizer gun with him. There were monkey everywhere, and if he looked closely, he swore he could see a tiger staring out at him from the second story window.  
  
"Not again," Bob sighed. This was the fourth case of escaped zoo animals that day. But what was odd was...none of the Zoo's in the surrounding areas had reported any missing.  
  
~*~~*~~*~*~~*~~*~*~~*~~*~*~*~~*~~*~*~~*~~*~*~~*~~*~*~~*~~*~*~~*~~*~*~~*~  
  
"Achtzehn, twenty... neunundzwanzig...THIRTY!!!"  
  
Kenneth, opened his eyes and looked around the room. Sara was nowhere to be seen, but that didn't disillusion him. She had to be somewhere in the kitchen, as she had promised.  
  
"Komm auf, come out wherever you are..."  
  
Kenneth heard the jingling of pans, and carefully snuck around the corner of the large metal counter. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he ran right into Ian.  
  
"Hallo, Mr. Ian..."  
  
"What exactly are you doing in here, Mr. Kenni?" Ian asked, looking to his employer, who was crouched down behind a counter.  
  
"Tryin' to find Sara. We're playing hide an' seek."  
  
"Ah," Ian looked to Irons, and he almost seemed...younger. Younger in body, almost. Kenneth didn't seem as tall as Ian had always seen him.  
  
Kenni looked around the kitchen, obviously without a clue as to where Sara was.  
  
"Would you like me to help you to find Sara?"  
  
"Isn't that cheating?"  
  
"I am not completely familiar with the rules and regulations of the game, but I can assume it would be *fair* if I assisted you in this operation."  
  
Kenneth smiled brightly, and led the way, with Ian occasionally directing him down a different row. Ian had known where Sara was since he entered the kitchen, but he figured that he wouldn't spoil the game for Kenneth.  
  
"I see you Sara." Kenneth lied, trying to get her to show herself. Ian watched his employer walk off in search of Sara then turned the other direction, and quietly snuck up on Sara, who was looking the other direction.  
  
"Boo,"  
  
Sara nearly jumped five feet into the air, but Ian swiftly moved the heavy cooking pan from the flight path of her head.  
  
"Ian, what the..." Sara yelled. The sound of a doorbell resounded through the kitchen area, and cut Sara off. Ian just smiled, balancing the frying pan upright in his hand by the handle. Sara couldn't help but smile. He was silent as usual, but somehow managing to be charming in the process. He offered his hand to help Sara up, which she accepted.  
  
"PIZZA!!!" Kenneth exclaimed, running for the door of the staff entrance. Ian caught him by the waist, and pushed him over to Sara.  
  
"I'll get it,"  
  
Kenneth started for the door again, but Sara grabbed his arm. In the process, Iron's hand brushed against the Witchblade, and he suddenly went stiff.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Hellooooo?" The pizza boy rang the doorbell again.  
  
He reached out to knock, but the door was suddenly swung open. He was taken aback by the guy who answered the door. Wearing all black, and a long black trench coat. He didn't seem like the pizza ordering sort of guy. Of course, this didn't seem like the kind of place that people would place a pizza order from. His boss almost had a conniption fit when she heard that someone from the Kenneth Irons estate had ordered a pizza. And even worse, he had been late in delivering it. It had taken him a good twenty minutes just to find the right entrance. A brown hair woman came up Mr. Dark Demeanor, and smiled at him before turning to the guy dressed in all black.  
  
"Hey Ian, can I talk to you for a second? The situation with Kenni has...become more complicated.  
  
**************************************************************************** ************  
  
"How so?" Ian asked. Sara seemed slightly perturbed about something.  
  
"I don't know exactly what happened..."  
  
"Sara, is the pizza here?" Kenni asked from behind them.  
  
Ian turned to look at his employer, only to see that Irons was slightly shorter that he had been in a long while. A looooooooong while.  
  
"He always wanted to look younger, right?" Sara whispered.  
  
"Cute kid," the pizza guy said, looking at Kenni, "Now does your happy little family want this pizza or what?"  
  
Ian scowled at the pizza guy, which caused the boy to back up a step or so, and took out his wallet. He paid the boy, then shut the door, ignoring the boy's mumbling "you would think a guy living in this kind of place could manage to give a bigger tip". Ian made a mental note to put that pizza place on his bad list.  
  
"Pizzapizzapizza!" Kenni exclaimed, jumping around. He truly looked like a six-year old now. He was a cute little kid, blue eyes and blonde hair, but still wayyyyyyyyy too damn hyperactive.  
  
"What happened?" Ian asked calmly. So calmly, that it was slightly disturbing. He had just given up at being surprised at this sort of thing.  
  
"I just grabbed his arm to keep him from running after you, and." Sara and Ian glanced down at the Witchblade.  
  
Then they both glanced back to the now-smaller Kenneth Irons, who was jumping up and down in an attempt to grab the pizza box from Ian's hand.  
  
"Shame on you, damned artifact."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
**CRASH***  
  
Gabriel glanced around the corner of his shop's hallway, hoping that the crash he had just heard was not another murder attempt. Or more bunnies. He didn't like bunnies.  
  
"Hello?" an oddly familiar voice called out from the shadows.  
  
"Who is it?" Gabriel asked.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"I asked you first," Gabriel protested, "If you're here to kill me, don't even think about it. I'll get my killer rabbits after you!"  
  
"Uh...I wasn't planning on killing anyone...just please, don't send the bunnies after me.  
  
Gabriel reached out, and found the light switch, flicking it on, looking in the direction of the voice. What he saw next caught him completely off guard.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"I likes pizza," Kenni exclaimed, taking another bite of the pizza, sitting on a large phone book so he could reach the table.  
  
Sara reached over and got herself a piece, and looked to Ian, who was standing near the sink of the staff kitchen.  
  
"Want some pizza, Ian?" Sara asked in between chewing.  
  
"No thank you, Sara."  
  
"Are you sure? It's really good," Sara said teasingly, taking another bite out of the pizza.  
  
Ian shook his head again and Sara sighed, turning back to her pizza. Kenneth practically inhaled the rest of his pizza, and looked around the table for more sustenance.  
  
"Ist there Nachtisch?" Kenni asked hopefully, in his odd mix of German and English.  
  
Sara looked to Ian for a translation.  
  
"Dessert."  
  
"Well...I don't know, Kenni. I was told that you got quite hyper last time you had sugar, if I remember correctly."  
  
"Just one chocolate chip cookie?" Kenni begged.  
  
"Okay," Sara sighed, "One cookie,"  
  
Sara glanced to Ian, who in turn disappeared into the kitchen for a few moments before returning with the promised cookie.  
  
Kenni made the cookie disappear in record time, and he yawned.  
  
"I believe it is bedtime for you, young Mr. Kenneth," Sara said.  
  
"But..." Kenni had to pause for another yawn, "I'm not sleepy, Sara."  
  
"Sure you aren't. Come on. Lets get you to bed," Sara said. She reached to take Kenni's hand, but rethought it. She nodded to Ian, trying to convey the message for him to take Kenneth's hand. Ian sighed and took Kenni's hand, and led him out of the kitchen, Sara following behind them.  
  
"I figured it would be better if we kept the little lad away from the Witchblade. He could turn into a leprechaun or something next time."  
  
Ian nodded, and kept walking. He could only imagine what Loki had in mind. He didn't know whether he should be awaiting to see what the odd deity had in mind, or be frightened. But with the voices inside his mind getting louder, he had other things on his mind.  
  
"You're being awfully quite, Ian. Are you all right?"  
  
Ian shook his head no, but kept walking all the same, and Kenni looked up to him. Ian rubbed the back of his head in pain, and Sara hoped that the past Protectors weren't giving him too much trouble.  
  
"Are you Herr Christian or Herr Ian?" inquired the young Kenneth Irons.  
  
"I am..." Ian glanced to Sara, "Herr Ian, of course. For now, at least," he muttered under his breath.  
  
"Oh. Okey," Kenni looked around the hallway, "Are we almost to my room?"  
  
"Yes," Ian said, "Do you need any assistance in getting ready for bed?"  
  
Kenni looked up to Ian.  
  
"Well...Herr Christian usually tells me bedtime stories...until Vater told him to stop. Then Lady Kathlyn showeded up...she told me that Vater thought the stories were childish...but I like the stories."  
  
"Well, after you get all ready for bed; Ian and I will tell you a story, okay Kenni?"  
  
"Okey!"  
  
Ian gave Sara a confused and slightly betrayed look, to which she only shrugged.  
  
They helped Kenneth change into an exceedingly baggy silk nightshirt, (which made them wonder what the hell they were going to do for clothing for him tomorrow), and he got into bed.  
  
"Where's my stuffed Hund?" Kenneth inquired.  
  
"Uh..." Sara began, looking around the room. She wasn't entirely sure of what he was asking for. Ian couldn't help but suppress a smile, and reached under the bed. He came back up with a stuffed plush dog, and handed it to Kenneth. Sara raised her eyebrows in amusement.  
  
"Story!" demanded Kenni, once he had settled into his bed.  
  
"Okay...well..." Sara cleared her throat, "Once upon a time there was a princess, who lived all by herself. She was in charge of her father's kingdom."  
  
"Not this princess was the most beautiful princess throughout all the land. She had silky hair, and beautiful emerald eyes." Ian ignored Sara's prying look, "She was very strong and smart, but she was also very lonely. Thousands of suitors came from near and far to try to win her over, but she would not let any of them into her heart." Ian looked up and locked gazes with Sara as she continued.  
  
"But one day, a mysterious knight came into the kingdom, who caught the princesses attention..." Sara said, keeping her eyes locked with Ian's.  
  
"He was a dark knight, one of mystery and danger. Usually, no one ever noticed him, and he stayed in the shadows. He was under the curse of an evil duke, who kept him from trying to fulfill his true destiny. He watched the beautiful princess from afar, always too afraid to approach her," Ian said mournfully, "And when she finally did notice him, she scorned him, and wanted nothing to do with him. She was unable to let anyone into her heart." Ian said in a mournfully tone, looking away from Sara's intense emerald eyes.  
  
"It doesn't end there, does it?" Kenneth asked, "That's dreadfully sad..."  
  
"Well, eventually, she began to see what a good man he really was. He managed to break the curse that the evil duke put on him, and became the charming and handsome knight he was always meant to be." Sara added quickly, relieved when she saw Ian's golden brown eyes looking up from the floor again.  
  
"And?" asked Kenni.  
  
"Well...they lived happily ever after, of course," Sara said with a smile.  
  
Kenni smiled, and seconds later was out like a light.  
  
"Well, that was oddly easy," Sara said with a shrug, pulling the blankets up to Kenni's chin. She looked at the sleeping child and sighed.  
  
"He looks so innocent."  
  
"Yes. He does," Ian replied, his voice void of any telling emotions. His opinion of his employer was quickly changing, but he refused to let himself grow too sympathetic. The softer he got, the more it hurt when he was stabbed in the back.  
  
Sara got up and started towards the door, and waited for Ian to get out of the room before switching off the lights.  
  
"Where's your rabbit, Ian?"  
  
"I gave it to the kitchen staff to take care of for the time being. I know little when it comes to the caring of small animals."  
  
Silence passed for a few moments, and Sara glanced to the clock on the wall.  
  
9:11  
  
After considering her options for a few moments, she turned to Ian.  
  
"Do you mind if I stay here for tonight? I don't know what kind of surprises dear old Loki has left for me in my apartment, but I don't really want to find out."  
  
"That would be no problem at all...Lady...Sara."  
  
"It's going to take awhile to break that habit, isn't it?" Sara inquired with a laugh.  
  
"Most likely...yes," Ian said. He stopped short in the middle of the hallway, and got a look in his eyes that Sara had come to dread.  
  
"Ian...Ian...oh, please not again..."  
  
**************************************************************************** ************* "Kathyln?"  
  
"No. Sara Pezzini." She replied with a deep and agitated sigh.  
  
"Ah, yes, now I remember. I am a Ghost of Christmas past.wait.no.that wasn't my line." Ian/Christian flashed a bright and incredible handsome smile, "But that's pretty much my job description."  
  
"I was under the impression that your job description was to make my life miserable for the next week."  
  
"No, no. My orders are far more devious than that." Ian/Christian said, "I am to take you on a trip down memory lane, and show you what a pathetic life Ian Nottingham has had.but I don't think he wants you to pity him, so I'm thinking about not doing that. Maybe I'll just take you on a trip of some to your other life times."  
  
"Why?" she asked simply.  
  
"Eh.because I can?" Christian offered.  
  
"That seems to be why most things have been going on lately."  
  
"Shall we go, Lady Sara?" Christian inquired, offering out his hand.  
  
"What the hell," sighed Sara, placing her hand in that of Ian/Christian's.  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
I left ya' hanging again, I know. So sorry. But, next chapter...dun dun dun...we go to the movies. ::frolics around happily::. 


	11. MY RAISINETTES!

Helloooooooooooooooooooo, friends, fellow countrymen, lend me your ears...  
  
::IrishRaven begins to speak, but both the muse and X shove her into a closet::  
  
Disclaimer: ::X walks off and crys::  
  
Feedback: I want it. Yes...I want reviews...please...bitte?  
  
Archive: Sure. Just ask and you shall receive.  
  
Time setting: I'm going to make this story set in 2003. I know that's not really when it should be, if wanting to be true to the series, but this story was not created to make sense. ;P  
  
Well, I must say, I am soooooooooooooooooo happy because of all the reviews. You folks have really kept me writing with all the feedback, and I thank you for that.  
  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed, Sierra Windfire (::hands over a slice of pizza), DKM (don't worry...Jake shall get what's coming to him), Jenileigh (just the idea of chocolate covered Ians made me post sooner), Eli (I do hope this chapter redeems my torture of Gabriel, and saves my rabbit from the blender),  
  
Redmayne (::gets down on knees and begs for help proof-readign::- see!!!!!!),  
  
Fae Rain (question: what's better than one Gabriel in a chapter?), Mako- chan Wolf (lets just say I grew up with Monty Python), Julia (who is with Gabriel...only him, of course ;P), MsLessa (::in a zombie-like state:: 'bribery good...'), msredux (::packs Ian up in a box and send him over::), rougegal17 (Loki's similarity to Ian is far more than a coincidence), and of course, thanks to Nina and Spin.  
  
Thanks much for giving me a better view of my writing! This is one of the only stories that I can pretty much follow my thought process and ideas and come up with something good. Everything else I write, I have to tone down on the randomness a bit...  
  
And without further random thoughts...(well...until the second sentence of the story)  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
Chapter XI  
  
"So where are we?" Sara asked Christian, looking around the dark space.  
  
Suddenly a row of movie theatre chairs appeared, and Christian gestured for Sara to sit down.  
  
"Think of it as interactive movies." Christian said with a laugh, "I have to go and attend to *the* Lady, my Lady, but Ian will take my place for the time being. The two of you need to learn to get along."  
  
Christian flickered and Ian was back, sitting next to her. And looking quite confused.  
  
"Ever been to the movies, Ian?" Sara asked, picking up the box of popcorn sitting on the chair next to her.  
  
"Once," Ian said, "I went to see Willy Wanka and the Chocolate Factory,"  
  
"Hm...that was a long time ago,"  
  
"I was three or four,"  
  
"And you remember that?"  
  
"I remember most of my childhood experiences, being it that there are so few of them."  
  
"What did you do as a kid?"  
  
"Trained.....studied...fought...read books...collected weapons... trained...studied some more....fought some more...have I mentioned training yet?"  
  
"What did you train so much for?"  
  
"To be Kenneth's super soldier bodyguard, and the Protector of the Wielder,"  
  
"So you..."  
  
"I had no childhood, Sara. I had my duties and my studies. But yet I still am judged by your societies 'norm'."  
  
"That's horrible," Sara said, swallowing her popcorn, the kernel scratching her throat on the way down.  
  
"It was my life. It made me who I am. I am not ashamed of it, and I do not pity who I am. You should not either."  
  
"But Ian...he took your life from you,"  
  
"He raised me Sara. I cannot hate him for that."  
  
"But..."  
  
"Shh. The movie's starting,"  
  
Sara turned around to see who has spoken. It was a Wielder sitting with someone who looked a lot like Bob Barkley.  
  
"Oh shut-up," Sara growled, "It's just the previews,"  
  
``````And coming soon to a theatre near you. There was a clip of a man in sunglasses, with black hair and a beard running down the corridor of an airport terminal, followed closely by an Asian man. "Will Danny manage to catch this trickster, or will Jake escape the clutches of this temporarily insane man?"````````````````````  
  
Sara exchanged a worried glance with Ian, who was apparently thinking the same thing.  
  
``` "And now, for our feature presentation"``````` In Gaelic: "Long before the birth of Christ, or the rebirth of the third of the Triple Goddess."  
  
In a bright flash, Sara found herself in a dark forest, the tree leaves so thick that they let very little light through. She could tell that it was still day, thought nearing sunset. She looked down to the dormant Witchblade, then up to the trees. Through this, she realized something else...she had no control over her body.  
  
'Joy. I'm *in* the movie.'  
  
"Morrigan! Morrigan! Morrigan Morgans, get over here!!!"  
  
'And it's not my body.'  
  
She looked up to see a younger girl running swiftly towards her, ducking gracefully under fallen trees as she did.  
  
"Morrigan, mother wishes for you to go into the village. She needs you to fetch some more salve for father's wounds."  
  
"I shall be there in a moment, Elina."  
  
"She wished for you to go now, sister," her younger sister replied, pointing to her horse, which was standing at the border of the forest.  
  
"Alright, Elina. I shall go now,"  
  
"Thank you, Morrigan,"  
  
Elina took her sisters hand and they started towards the edge of the forest. She looked admiringly at the bracelet, touching its smooth surface.  
  
"Who gave you the bracelet, Morrigan? Was it Lord Michael?"  
  
"No," Morrigan said, trying not to wince at the mention of the lord's name, "I found it."  
  
"What if someone lost it and wants it back?"  
  
"I doubt anyone wants it back," Morrigan said, thinking exactly what Sara was. Not only was Sara in Morrigan's body, but she was in her mind as well.  
  
"But it 'tis so pretty!" Elina exclaimed, touching the jewel again.  
  
Morrigan only smiled and ruffled her younger sister's hair. Morrigan was very protective of her little sister. She was now the eldest sister, since Xeian died...  
  
- The vision was fast-forwarded until Morrigan was nearing the village. She watched the children play out in front of the village while their parents got the supplies they needed within.  
  
"Hello, Lassie. Haven't seen you around here lately," a voice that sickened Sara, though she didn't even know whom it belonged to.  
  
"Good day, Lord Michael." Morrigan said, continuing to ride past the man.  
  
"Have you been avoiding me, Morrigan?"  
  
"Of course not, Lord Michael. I have merely been taking routes that would not bring me into your presence."  
  
"I do not find you amusing, Morrigan,"  
  
"And I do not find you nearly as charming as you believe yourself to be, Lord Michael."  
  
"I have grown tired of your mouth, Morrigan," Lord Michael said, riding up along side her, and grabbing her wrist. The Witchblade immediately awoke, and began swirling angrily. Morrigan was glad that the shirt she had chosen to wear that day had sleeves, so to cover the bracelet.  
  
"And I have grown even more tired of your advances," Morrigan replied venomously, tearing her arm from his grasp. She rode forward quickly, leaving Lord Michael in the dust. She reached the outer wall of the market place and dismounted. She tied her horse securely, and walked into the marketplace, glancing over her shoulder for any sign of Michael. In doing so, she walked right into a man carrying a large crate. The box began to fall, but Morrigan caught it in midair.  
  
"I'm sorry, sir," Morrigan said, placing the heavy load on the ground. She glanced up to the man she had run into, and that casual glance turned into a stare. Sara immediately recognized him as Ian. He had blonde highlights through his black hair, which brought out his caramel eyes. And he had a tan. Sara doubted Ian spent much time in the sun...but it made him look absolutely stunning.  
  
"I am not," he replied, gazing into her eyes.  
  
"Pardon me, mi'Lord?" Morrigan asked, studying the man's beautiful eyes, "Did you perhaps hit your head in our collision?"  
  
"Aye, I did not have my head struck, the whereabouts struck were more in the region of my chest."  
  
"What a talker you are," Morrigan laughed.  
  
"Normally not so, mi'Lady. I usually avoid running into people, but you managed to blind me with your radiance."  
  
"Well, if I knew I had that sort of effect on people, I would have been more careful in watching where I was going."  
  
"And what is your name, radiant angel?"  
  
Morrigan usually did not take this sort of flattery well, but this man...he was so...so...she could not place her finger on it, but he was a combination of mystery and charm.  
  
"I am Morrigan, good sir. And do tell, what is your name?  
  
"I am Loki, mi'Lady."  
  
"How did you acquire that title? It sounds strangely familiar."  
  
"I shall tell you if you will walk with me whilst I talk."  
  
"Good sir, I have no time for walks," Morrigan said regretfully.  
  
Loki gave her a look that Sara immediately recognized as the 'kicked puppy' look that Ian gave her whenever he wanted to convince her to do something.  
  
Morrigan sighed and glanced over her shoulder, and saw Lord Michael looking around the market.  
  
"I would be glad to," Morrigan said. Her accepting was not so much do to Michael as it did to the look she had just received from this charming man.  
  
Loki balanced the heavy crate on his left shoulder, and they walked about the shops.  
  
"I am a messenger."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"You would not believe me," Loki said after a moment of thought.  
  
"Attempt to tell me, my Lord. There is little I will not believe." They walked to an unoccupied grassy area inside the ruins or a stone house near the market, away from the bustle of the shops.  
  
"You will not accuse me of being a man ill in the head, or run off and tell my secret?" Loki asked coyly. He trusted few people, but this woman...he was so drawn to her.  
  
"I shall say nothing, mi'Lord."  
  
"I am a messenger between the gods," Loki said after a moment of decision.  
  
Morrigan only had time to give him a questioning look, when someone came up from behind her and grabbed her around the waist. She struggled against him, but her attacker brought a knife to her throat.  
  
"You do not ride off while I am talking to you, girl. I shall not be disrespected in such a way." Lord Michael growled,"  
  
"That is no way to treat a lady," Loki spoke up, leaning against the rock wall in the shadows.  
  
"This is none of your concern, peasant,"  
  
"Peasant?" Loki asked, slowly and tranquilly walking towards the two, "Do I truly look like a peasant to you?"  
  
"Why else would you be talking to this whore?"  
  
Loki narrowed his eyes and in a flash of motion, he had Michael's arm bent behind painfully behind his back.  
  
"I was talking to this fine Lady because I find her presence soothing and enjoyable. You, Lord Michael, I do not find so. You are an insulting, arrogant wop. I ask that you apologize to this lovely Lady before I feel obligated to break your arm."  
  
"I shall do no such thi..."  
  
A scream of pain could be heard throughout the entire market.  
  
"One more inch and it 'tis broken. If you are terribly...attached to your arm, I suggest you express your apologies rather quickly, rather well, and promise to never offend her again."  
  
"I am...sorry, Peasant..." there was a slight cracking noise, and Michael looked even more uncomfortable, "*Lady* Morrigan. I shall leave you alone from this point on."  
  
Loki released him, and Michael rubbed his sore arm.  
  
"Now, go off and find yourself a better pastime than picking on women," Loki said, "And *never* call me a peasant again."  
  
Morrigan looked at Loki, more confused than before. And slightly angry.  
  
"I can take care of myself," Morrigan said darkly, after Lord Michael had stalked away.  
  
"You were most certainly doing a great job earlier."  
  
"I was biding my time,"  
  
"Of course you were, mi'Lady."  
  
Morrigan moved faster than the eye could see, and within a mere second, had Loki pinned up against the wall.  
  
"As I had said; I was biding my time. But I'm glad to see that you truly are a friend, messenger of the gods."  
  
"You believe me?" Loki asked over his shoulder.  
  
"Yes, I do,"  
  
Morrigan released him, and she walked back towards the market. She walked towards the medicine stand, leaving a very confused Loki watching her disappear into the crowd.  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
Sara blinked, and found herself back in the movie theatre seat, and looked around in puzzlement. Ian looked equally bemused, but he recovered as soon as he saw the Raisinettes on the seat next to him.  
  
"Why are we back in here? Is it over?" Sara asked.  
  
"I believe it is known as 'Intermission'," replied Ian, happily eating his Raisinettes.  
  
"It was just getting interesting!!" Sara complained.  
  
Ian just raised his eyebrows in amusement, saying nothing.  
  
"What?" Sara asked, wishing that she could read thoughts again.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Ian...what?!" she demanded, very suspicious.  
  
"Nothing at all, Sara."  
  
Sara sighed in frustration and after a few minutes of watching Ian, reached over and grabbed some Raisinettes.  
  
"Hey!" Ian protested, moving his arms to protect his Raisinettes from her.  
  
"Didn't you learn to share?"  
  
"Yes," Ian said indignantly.  
  
Sara reached over for the Raisinettes once again, but he pulled them away again.  
  
"But I was never very good when it came to Raisinettes."  
  
Sara glared at Ian for a few moments as he popped the Raisinettes into his mouth. After a moment of contemplation, Sara jumped at him and began wrestling with him for the Raisinettes.  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
Gabriel watched as the man walked out of the shadows, and nearly had a coronary. It was...it looked like...he was...  
  
"Are you...me?" Gabriel inquired, looking at someone who could pass as a mirror image of him.  
  
"I was about to ask you the same thing," the other Gabe said slowly, beginning to move as they began circling each other. Each kept their eyes on the other, very cautious.  
  
"What do you want?" Gabriel asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.  
  
Gabe paused for a few moments before replying.  
  
"Something to be eat would be nice."  
  
"Okay," Gabriel said with a shrug, and they walked towards the kitchen. (A/N: Gabriel = present day Gabriel, Gabe= Gabriel from the future)  
  
"Are you a clone of me?" asked Gabriel as he rummaged through the cabinets.  
  
"Uh...well...this looks like my store...except it's not completely trashed, and it doesn't look like the world is ending..." Gabe replied, "And I'd infer that means Sara is still alive and well."  
  
"Woah...wait a second..." Gabriel said, processing the information, "I bet you're from some sort of alternate universe...but what went wrong I yours? Does Sara not have the Witchblade?"  
  
"No, she had it...but she didn't have a Protector. Well she did for awhile...it's a long story." Gabe said. He paused and looked to the floor, sadness in his eyes, "But now she's dead,"  
  
Gabe went to the refrigerator and rummaged through in search of sustenance.  
  
"But at least I still have her," Gabe said thankfully.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"You know...her,"  
  
"Her?"  
  
"Yeah, you must know. You probably called her in as a consultant on the Witchblade. Right?"  
  
"As I asked earlier...who?"  
  
"Eli, of course. Eli Morgan."  
  
"I don't know anyone by that name."  
  
Gabe froze and turned from his sandwich making.  
  
"I'm not entirely sure of the rules pertaining to parallel dimensions ...but..." Gabe glanced around the kitchen.  
  
"What's today's date?"  
  
"April 1st...in an hour or so it'll be the 2nd."  
  
"What year is it?"  
  
"2003," Gabriel replied.  
  
"That may explain quite a lot."  
  
"It was April 11th, 2004 when I woke up this morning." Gabe said, grabbing some rather old bread from the cabinet.  
  
"So you're not from an alternative universe, you're from the..."  
  
Gabe nodded and took a bite of his completed sandwich.  
  
"And Sara is..."  
  
"Yeah," Gabe said with a sad sigh.  
  
"Do you remember anything about killer rabbits?" asked Gabriel  
  
"...no..."  
  
"Assassins?" Gabriel inquired  
  
"Only if you count the demonic kind."  
  
"We're talking people,"  
  
"Then...eh...no." replied Gabe, "Have you met X yet?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
Gabe winced at this, and rubbed his head.  
  
"Well, then I shan't bug you with details you probably shouldn't know."  
  
"Sara..." Gabriel said after a few moments of silence and Gabe's chewing, "How did she...did she die? Can we try to stop it?"  
  
"We could!" Gabe said, almost choking on his sandwich (a/n: which, now that it's mentioned, I have no idea what he put on it, but it looks pretty gross.), "Or at least we could try."  
  
***** Big flash of light. Reeeeeeeeeeealy Big flash of light*****  
  
*****************~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**************************  
  
A/N: I know...not the best place to end it. But the only other place I could have ended it was earlier, and I figured ya'll wanted to know what was going on with Gabriel. And I didn't want my rabbit put through the blender.  
  
We've just started a new thing in English, so I may be away for awhile. Hamlet: The Cheese Danish...wait...no, that's not it...well, whatever it is I've already read it, but I must do so again, then do a rather lengthy report on it. I hope to return as soon as I can. (And once I get caught up on my school work again)  
  
::shove muse into a cage and with tears in her eyes, X walks away::  
  
Thanks again for all the support!!!!!!!! 


	12. Gabriels and Gods

Hihi folks. I'm back for about point three seconds before I return to the damned essays. I hope you like this chapter, short as it may be. The plot is moving along, though slowly. I'm not entirely sure where I will actually be ending this...hehe...so what else is new. ::sighs::  
  
Much thanks to: Mako-chan Wolf (I don't rightly know what's in store. Ask her ::points to muse::), DKM (::smiles maniacally::), Eli (what's wrong with invisible friends?! ::Looks over to Bob::), Jenileigh (hehehehehe...indeed), Redmayne (Ooo...apartment hunting. Much luck to you), Riyallyn (may be one of the last times Kenni is acting like a good child...), moondreamer ( ;P sorry 'bout that. Don't let these stories get in the way of your work...), Spin (::evil thoughts for next chapter), Shinara (thanks for the support!) Thanks again to everyone who reviewed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!...!!!!!!  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
Chapter XII  
  
******************Grand old flash of light*********************  
  
The two Gabriels looked around their surroundings in confusion. It was the limbo of the Witchblade, but neither man knew what that was.  
  
"I was here right before I ended up in your dimension...time...whatever we decided was going on."  
  
There was another bright flash of light within darkness, and so appeared Loki.  
  
"Ah, good day, Gabriel...s, Keepers," Loki said with a nod to both men. He snapped his fingers and a large leather chair appeared, and he sat down.  
  
"Wow...so you snap your fingers and you can make things happen? Interesting," Gabriel marveled, totally forgetting the oddness of it all, for a few moments at least.  
  
"I don't actually need to snap my fingers, but it's more pretentious when I do," Loki replied, snapping his fingers again and two more chairs appeared, along with Gabe's half-eaten sandwich. Gabe looked it over very carefully before taking another bite out of it.  
  
"So, uh...Loki, I presume...why are we here?" Gabriel inquired.  
  
"The situation I am currently dealing with has become a bit more complicated," Loki explained slowly, "And I may...well...quite frankly, I need your help, Keepers."  
  
Gabe almost choked on his sandwich again.  
  
"You? The *GOD*, and I do stress the word *GOD*.of mischief and mayhem, need *OUR* help?" Gabe asked, after coughing up the obtrusive piece of bread and who-knows-what.  
  
"Sure, rub it in my face," Loki said with a sigh, putting his head in his hand.  
  
"Sorry," Gabriel said, "It's just...well...why would you need our help?"  
  
"Your friend Sara and your relation and local assassin, Ian are quite stubborn."  
  
"Tell us something we don't know," Gabe said after he took the final bite of the sandwich.  
  
"I need you to help me complete my plan," Loki said.  
  
"What exactly would that entail?" Gabriel inquired.  
  
"The main gist of it all is, I'm trying to make those two realize their destines before they are pulled apart, and prevent the future that Gabe came from." Loki said, "If you accept, I can tell you the rest of the details."  
  
Gabriel and Gabe exchanged glances. If the future Gabe came from was the one that would happen without this intervention...  
  
"We accept," the Gabriels said in unison.  
  
"Glad to hear that. Now lets get to work, gentlemen,"  
  
(Keepers= Keepers of Knowledge, connected with the Witchblade in my twisted little world)  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
Sara sat back in her seat, watching Ian triumphantly eating his Raisinettes. They had actually called it a draw, but Sara had already eaten all her Raisinettes, and was eyeing Ian's once again.  
  
"Fair is fair, Lady Sara. Just because I did not inhale my Raisinettes in a single breath..."  
  
Sara glared at him, eyeing the Raisinettes once again.  
  
"Yeah, but *I* have gummi bears," Sara said proudly, picking up bag from the seat next to her."  
  
"Gummi bears?" Ian inquired, not as focused on his Raisinettes any more. He reached over to grab the gummi bears, but was distracted by the dimming of the theatre lights, and the previews that came up onto the screen.  
  
````````````Coming soon to a Theatre near you... "What will happen when two identical men, one from the present, and one from the future; have the powers of a god bestowed on them? Stay tuned to find out!" ```````````````````````````  
  
"I wonder what that's about," Sara muttered. It was the last thing she said before she was once again pulled from her own body.  
  
```````````````Morrigan weaved her way through the crowd, oblivious to the people around her. She was in a separate world through which she walked, distracted by the enchanting golden-brown eyes, around which her new world revolved.  
  
She walked into an old store, held up by old wood. The roof was covered with a thick cloth, in an attempt to keep out the heavy rains that occasionally came through that area of Ireland.  
  
"Good Mornin', Lady Morrigan," the keeper of the medicine shop greeted when she entered.  
  
"Good Morning, Lazar," Morrigan smiled at the old man.  
  
Lazar smiled back, and went back to grinding the dried herbs in his bowl.  
  
"What may I do for you this day, Morrigan?"  
  
"The wound on my father's back has gotten far worse, and I need more of that salve you gave me last time."  
  
"Ah yes." Lazar said, rummaging through one of his old and decaying cabinets, "I believe I still have some of that in my possession."  
  
"I wish that I could find a healer that knew what to make of his wound."  
  
"Perhaps you have already found one," said Lazar.  
  
"Can you heal him?"  
  
"No, but you can, with her help."  
  
"Who do you speak of?" Morrigan asked nervously.  
  
Lazar turned around and grabbed Morrigan's right wrist.  
  
"You know of who I speak, young Wielder."  
  
"How do you know?" Morrigan hissed, pulling her hand from his grasp.  
  
"There are many things that I know, but the question is, what is it that you need to know, young Morrigan?"  
  
Morrigan pulled away from Lazar and walked around the shop, looking at the objects that were up on the shelves.  
  
"Why me?" she asked, "Why me?"  
  
Once again, Sara felt as if everything she was seeing through Morrigan's eyes was being fast forwarded; through her discovery of what the Blade was, and meeting a past Wielder who gave her vague details and hints.  
  
"I don't want this," Morrigan said, "I do not want to have this responsibility. I want to live and die a normal life. This 'Llan An Cailleach' is why my father is severely wounded, my older sister is dead, and I am forever cursed!!!"  
  
Morrigan tore the bracelet from her wrist and threw it at the dirt floor. The dirt engulfed it, and Morrigan turned to leave. But, as she looked to her wrist, and there the bracelet was again, gleaming at her maliciously.  
  
"Lazar.I don't want to have to live with this object the rest of my life, which now looks like it shall be shorter than I expected."  
  
"You are not along in the struggle, Morrigan McBride. You have allies. Some closer, and more powerful than you think."  
  
Morrigan looked up from the ground and to Lazar, who gave her a reassuring smile. She nodded then left the shop, and walked back into the bustle of the crowd, things not seeming the same way as when she had left. Everything seemed different...clouded. These people...she was here to protect them. Her life was no longer her own. Morrigan glanced down to the Llan An Cailleach, which began to gleam. Sara remembered how she felt when she first learned of her new responsibility...she wanted to run into her father's waiting arms to be comforted...but he was not there. Then she wanted to run into the arms of someone who could understand...but there wasn't anyone there. But after that split second of weakness...her walls went up again.  
  
Morrigan walked swiftly through the crowd, ignoring those who bumped into her. She tucked the salve she had gotten from the shop into her cloak and made a sprint towards her horse. The Witchblade began to glow, and in the glowing dusk it managed to show through the sleeve of Morrigan's shirt. Her horse whinnied, and Morrigan reached out a hand to calm her.  
  
"It has been a long day, Ebony," Morrigan murmured with a sigh, "What do you say we go home?"  
  
The horse snorted and bucked its head in a nod.  
  
"My thoughts exactly,"  
  
Morrigan jumped up onto Ebony and turned her towards the forest.  
  
"There are some strange things happening around here, Ebony." Morrigan sighed as she brought the horse to a trot.  
  
A cold breeze blew through the woods, and Morrigan shivered involuntarily. It was nearing summer, and the sudden change in temperature had Morrigan on edge.  
  
Ebony whinnied and slowed down, not wanting to go on. Morrigan tapped the reins, pushing her to go forward.  
  
"What is it, Ebony?"  
  
The red glow of the Llan An Cailleach caught Morrigan's eye, and she immediately tensed. At the sound of a snapping twig, Morrigan looked to side of the path, into the dark forest. The sun was no longer visible over the horizon, and soon the night creatures would be appearing. But the night creatures were not what made her ill-at-ease. The creatures who didn't live in the forest were the ones that frightened her. Creatures like Lord Michael. The noise came again, closer than before.  
  
"Whoever is there, be gone. I have no quarrel with you."  
  
But the footsteps did not cease, and Ebony took off, spooked in the sudden movement Sara was thrown to the ground, and hit hard. The footsteps were along side her now, and Morrigan jumped up, immediately in a defense position, regardless of the pain. Few people dared to be out on these roads after dark, and with good reason, it seems. Five men appeared, three of them standing around her to surround her.  
  
"You are to come with us, peasant farmer. Lord Michael has called for your presence," the man without a beard commanded.  
  
"I shall not," Morrigan replied, making sure to keep her bearings on all them men.  
  
"You do not have a choice." The beard-less man said once again.  
  
"One always has a choice."  
  
The men moved closer to Morrigan, and the Witchblade grew brighter. The sound of scraping metal could be hear, and the Blade appeared on her wrist, causing the men to back up a few steps.  
  
"Now you have a choice...live, or..." Morrigan waved the Llan An Cailleach to emphasis this point, "Meet your maker sooner than you had previously anticipated."  
  
The five men exchanged glances before moving in on her. One of the men behind her raised his sword, preparing to hit her over the head with the hilt of his sword. He was extremely surprised when the hilt hit metal instead the base of Morrigan's skull, then cracked.  
  
"I shall say, you may have not made the correct choice if you value your lives to any extent."  
  
She struck out again, and one of the men fell, clutching his side. The men's attack grew more fierce, and soon Morrigan was fighting off attacks from all sides. The beard-less man's sword came flying at Morrigan's head, but suddenly...````````````  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Sara opened her eyes to find herself in the odd movie theatre. She glanced to Ian, who was still in a trance like state. He opened them after a few moments and smiled.  
  
"He left it off there?" Sara demanded in an outrage.  
  
Ian's smile only broadened in response.  
  
"Ian..." she warned.  
  
"I know what happens," Ian taunted, getting up from the seat. He had begun to lose circulation in his legs from sitting for so long. Which made him wonder whether he was actually *in* the limbo of the Witchblade, or if Loki was just taking the movie watching experience to the fullest.  
  
"And?" Sara asked.  
  
"I am not at liberty to tell you," Ian said with the mischievous smile Sara had come to enjoy so much.  
  
"I betcha you can tell me...you just want to make me suffer."  
  
"I would never want to make you suffer," Ian said, dead serious, "But I do not mind making you have to speculate about the issue for a long time."  
  
Sara was having evil thoughts of tickling Ian into hysterical laughter, but movement behind her distracted her from those thoughts.  
  
The seats of the theatre disappeared, and the theatre soon followed. Ian and Sara were left standing in the hallway, once again displaced. Sara glanced to the metallic clock on the wall, which read 9:15.  
  
"That was only four minutes?" Sara said aloud, dumbstruck.  
  
"Our lives are merely seconds in the scheme of life," Ian said quietly. The two were silent for a few moments, and exchanged a quick glance. Sara looked up and down the hall before looking back to Ian  
  
"So...uh...where do you keep the punching bag around here?"  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
Hiya. Well, I managed another chapter in my current time schedule, which is a feat within its self. Now, I would like reviews. Many reviews. Muahahahahahahahaaaa::hiccups::aaaaaaa  
  
But even more, I would like all of you to write a short little letter to this address tnt@turner.com , and beg for them to get Witchblade up and running again. I'm sure it's a hopeless effort, but it would make me feel a lot better...please? ;P  
  
Thanks much and Slan Agat.  
  
-XRaven of the Irish Persuasion 


	13. Bunny go poof?

Hello folks ::jumps after reading all her reviews:: Thanks you so much. I feel appreciated!!!!!!  
  
Thanks to Nanz, Riyallyn (not the Reeses!!!!!!! Must have Reeses!!!!), DKM (lay back on that sugar...you may just pop. Or turn out like me...::shivers in fear::), Spin, msredux, scooter (it's fun to make them act like quibbling children ;P), wendy, Fae Rain (be very afraid...), Mako-chan Wolf (thanks for the help!! We shall bring Witchblade back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) Eli (Ian is good at keeping secrets. And of course, no age issues...:P), Jenileigh (I aim to please my fans ;P), Jade (::snaps fingers, trying to wake her up::), Sierra Windfire (chocolate cover cashews? I don't believe I've had the pleasure. I'm gonna stick with my Raisinettes. And thanks for the info!!!), Julia (of course that was the only reason...::walks off laughing::), and of course, Baloo (thank you soooooooooooo much. I'm flattered!!!)  
  
Disclaimer: I own the characters you don't recognize. Except for Eli. She belongs to...well...would it insult your intelligence too much if I told you? (Eli, QED!) (Quad Erat Demonstrondum. Brush up on your Latin!)  
  
Archive: Ask me first!!!  
  
Feedback: Oooo, yes please. I like reviews. I crave reviews. I want reviews. PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAASE!? Heh...I realize I sound quite pathetic, but, but...PLEEEEEEEASE?! Bitte bitte bitte!!!  
  
No more pathetic and annoying pleads...onto Chapter 13!!!  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
Chapter XIII  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
The Animal Control units had just undertaken the biggest operation of their existence. (Lions and tigers and...monkeys, oh my.) A few passerbys had actually stopped to stare, and since this was New York, it made it all the stranger. (That people actually stopped to look, that is).  
  
Bob, the Animal Control man walked through the precinct, with his net, when he sighted his prey. It was the final monkey...the one with the bad toupee. Bob crept up on the primate and threw the net over it, ensnaring it.  
  
"I got the last primate," reported Bob, into his walkie-talkie, "Should I tranquilize it like the rest?  
  
The monkey, in the meanwhile, was frantically grabbing for a notepad and a pen. Unfortunately for the monkey, by the time it had snatched a pen, Bob had already aimed his tranq gun, and everything went dark for Dante.  
  
~*~  
  
Gabe and Gabriel sat in the Talismaniac shop with Loki, who was dressed in semi-normal clothing, though he kept his black cloak on over the equally black clothes.  
  
"Who are we waiting for?" asked Gabriel.  
  
"I believe you...well...*he*," Loki said gesturing to Gabe, "has already met her."  
  
Gabe's eyes widened in realization of whom Loki was talking about.  
  
"You mean..." Gabe asked, close to falling out of his chair.  
  
"Don't look so surprised. You should have inferred someone as strange as Xeire was related to me in some fashion."  
  
"Who?" Gabriel inquired, feeling completely left out of the loop.  
  
"X," Gabe said simply, then to Loki, "Where does she fit into all of this?"  
  
"She is one of the three Wielder lines," Loki said, as if it were common knowledge, "Sara is of the main line, but the other two also fit into the big picture, connecting loose ends, so to speak. They are usually related to the Wielder or the Protector, sometimes a Keeper like you...never both the Wielder and the Protector. Keeps us from getting into incest problems."  
  
Gabe and Gabriel just gave him a blank look, (as did the writer).  
  
"Are you still with me, boys?"  
  
They simply nodded.  
  
"In my time, they were the sisters of Morrigan, my charge. I think you may also know the third sister..." Loki mused.  
  
"And who would that be? I know many people, quite a few who match the M.O. of one related to the Witchblade.  
  
"She doesn't match the *M.O.* so to speak. But...her name starts with an E, and ends with a *Li*?"  
  
"That narrows it down a bit," replied Gabe with a nod.  
  
Gabriel was typing away at his computer and Loki cast a glance over to him, worried the boy didn't get out enough.  
  
"Now, Mr. Loki, you said something about a great power that would be bestowed upon us," Gabriel said, in pause from his typing, looking down to the golden bracelet Loki had given both he and his future counterpart, "What exactly did you mean?"  
  
While Gabriel was speaking, a rabbit had hopped over to his feet. When he saw it, he pushed back in his chair in fright, pointing at it in horror. As he did so, a stream of energy emanated from his hands, and the rabbit disappeared in a little puff of smoke. Gabriel looked his hands over in shock.  
  
"I can...make things go...poof?" Gabriel asked, for lack of a better world.  
  
"Not just that," Loki said with a nod, walking through the shop with his hands clasped behind his back.  
  
"Cool..." Gabe said in awe, looking at his hands too.  
  
"So what exactly *can* we do?" Gebriel inquired.  
  
"You have the powers of a minor god," Loki replied, as if it were a walk in the park.  
  
"Ooooo," Gabe said with a transfixed and rather odd smile, "I've always wanted to smite someone...can we smite people?"  
  
Loki stopped walking and looked to the overly enthusiastic man.  
  
"I'd rather you didn't,"  
  
"Awwww," Gabe and Gabriel muttered dejectedly.  
  
Loki refrained from rolling his eyes, and tried not to think about how bad an idea it was to have given the Keepers powers.  
  
Luckily, at that moment, there was a knock at the door, and all three men yelled in unison:  
  
"It's open!"  
  
A woman walked into the shop, looking around. Her face was blank, but her eyes searched for danger. The woman had long wavy, golden hair with even, dark brown streaks through it. She wore dark clothing, and wore a long flowing coat, the same colour as Loki's.  
  
The woman had her back to the three men as she looked out the window, and Gabriel could see the definite shape of the sword beneath the long coat.  
  
"Xeire?" Loki called. She slowly turned from the window, her ice blue eyes, with a border of steely blue bore into each of the men in turn as she looked them over.  
  
"Hello, Father,"  
  
"I have not seen you in a long while, Xeire,"  
  
"I have not been seen in long while," Xeire replied with a demure smile.  
  
"Do you know why I've summoned you?"  
  
"I presume something has occurred involving the Wielder and her Protector."  
  
"I need help changing something predestined to occur, if there is no intervention, that is. Death of the Wielder, and quite possibly the wielder's entire bloodline."  
  
"I sense it had not yet occurred, since the Keepers appear to still be alive," Xeire said wryly, suppressing the urge to poke one just to make sure.  
  
"You are correct,"  
  
Xeire nodded, and look to the two Gabriels.  
  
"One wasn't enough?" she inquired.  
  
"One my have been enough, but they have their own destinies to fulfill," Loki said, "But we shall not speak of that here."  
  
"Of course,"  
  
"I am authorized to say that they shall be helping us." X looked them over once again, and Gabe returned the look, though more terrified.  
  
"Do I intimidate you, Keeper?"  
  
"Quite a lot, yes," Gabe said.  
  
"What have I done to deserve such fear?"  
  
"You haven't done it yet,"  
  
"Ah. Yes. That happens to me all the time." said Xeire, more humor in her tone that the Gabriels expected from someone in such an outfit.  
  
Xeire looked to Loki, who gave her an 'I'll-explain-it-later' glance.  
  
"Come, Xeire, we have much to talk about. And Morrigan wished to speak with you."  
  
"I do not have much time, father. I have obligations to be fulfilled."  
  
"Yes, yes. We shall get to that."  
  
Loki waved his hand in the air, and a doorway appeared in the center of the room, revealing the misty realm of the Witchblade. The two disappeared, and the Gabriels were left to stare after them. They exchanged a very confused look, then looked back to the fading portal.  
  
"Did she call him father?!"  
  
~*~  
  
Sara hit the bag again, sending it flying again, the chain beginning to creak. Her jeans were constraining for this kind of work out. But she did not have the luxury of getting any clothing from her apartment at this time. The punching bag swayed, and Sara moved aside to keep from getting hit by it. She glanced across the room, where Ian stood, facing away from her, with his hands clasped behind his back. He stood in front of a mirror, and Sara could see his eyes were closed, as if he were intently focused on something in his mind. As she watched, he began to move slowly, beginning a martial arts form.  
  
Sara tried to go back to beating the crap out of the punching bag, but she couldn't. You see.Ian had taken off his multiple layers of clothing, and well.the nicest presents always seem to be the best-wrapped ones. His sculpted chest was evident under the black tank top, and Sara took her time to look him up and down as he moved. Ian began to move more quickly, and it was such fast movement, Sara had to struggle to keep an eye on him. But it was definitely worth it. Ian paused to cool off, and his skin was flushed. His body moved as he breathed deeply, and Sara was mesmerized by the rippling muscles.  
  
Sara blinked, and repressed the urge to slap herself, and went back to punching the bag, more ferociously than before.  
  
She glanced down to the Witchblade, which was glowing happily.  
  
Sara glared viciously at the glowing red eye before turning back to the punching bag.  
  
Right, left, uppercut, jab, kick. Kick, punch, jab, palm thrust, rightleftrighrightleftuppercutkickjabsidekickleftrightrightleftsiderightrigh t.  
  
Sara hit the bag again and again, until her knuckles began to ache, even though they were protected by the gloves.  
  
*****  
  
Ian cast a glance over to Sara as she viciously attacked the punching bag. He realized that he was allowing his mind to wander, and had no idea where he was in the form. He got his mind back on track, but he realized that the next move involved turning away from Sara, and considered skipping that part of the exercise for a few moments. She had such a presence...it demanded his attention whenever she entered the room.  
  
Even when he turned around facing the mirror as he finished a form, his eyes were on her. He adored her, but she seemed not to notice. Ian focused on something else, suppressing the feelings of pain he felt at her rejections. Suddenly the day wasn't so humorous.  
  
"Hey Nottingham," Sara called. He turned to see her hefting one of the swords that Ian kept on the walls.  
  
"Want to have a friendly little competition?" Sara asked with a gleam in her eye, looking the sword over in fascination.  
  
"Are you sure you wish to risk dealing with swords when Loki is having his way with the world, Sara?"  
  
"What? Afraid you'll lose?"  
  
That's all she had to say.  
  
~*~  
  
Clink clink swish clink swish thrust parry swish clang.  
  
Sara blocked the oncoming sword, and used a great heave of strength to shake it off. Ian lunged again, and knocked the sword from Sara's grasp with a heavy hit. Sara only smiled, and the Gauntlet formed on her wrist. She blocked the next thrust, and began to drive Ian back towards the wall.  
  
Sara's eyes widened as she heard Ian's thoughts clearly, and she kept driving him towards the wall. He jumped up, not to be cornered, and came down behind Sara. Only Sara was already facing him, and pointed the Witchblade to his throat before he could respond.  
  
"That part wasn't in your plan, was it?" Sara asked with a smug smile. Ian was about to respond, but he broke out into laughter.  
  
"What?" Sara asked, baffled by the response, "What?!"  
  
She moved the Witchblade from Ian's neck, afraid that he would manage to impale himself during his fit of laughter. That's when she saw the cause of Ian's comatose laughter. Instead of the blade coming from the gauntlet, it was a little flag with the word "slash" painted on it, as if it was right out of a cartoon.  
  
"Sheez. Is this really going to keep up all week?"  
  
"With what I've seen of Loki so far," Ian said, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye as he sat on the floor, "...it is quite likely."  
  
"Great," Sara sighed, the weapon retracting back to its bracelet form.  
  
"So, which one of us won that one, Mi'Lady?"  
  
"Loki did," replied Sara, hitting the punching bag so hard that it almost came off its hinges.  
  
"What about this enrages you so much?" Ian inquired, moving over to hold the punching bag steady as Sara punched it.  
  
"Aside from the practical jokes, the messing with my already messed up life, the lack of a clean change of clothes..." Sara paused before hitting the bag again, "I just have a feeling we're not being told all that's going on; and I definitely don't like being left out of the loop."  
  
"Well," Ian said after regaining the circulation of air in his lungs which had been lost during the last punch, "I'm sure you'll find patience can be a virtue."  
  
"Who ever said that had too much time on their hands," Sara growled, emphasizing her point with a strong right jab. The Gauntlet formed on her wrist, encasing her fist, and Ian stepped back as Sara moved to punch the bag.  
  
"Perhaps you would feel better with some sleep and clean clothing," Ian said, wishing to keep his body from being flung through a wall, followed by a rather heavy punching bag.  
  
"Probably. Unfortunately, I have no clean clothes. But I do have a lovely case of insomnia. So I'm 0 for two."  
  
"I think I can find you some clothes in the mansion. We have a maid living here who is about your size."  
  
"Thank you, Ian. I would appreciate that."  
  
What Ian didn't add was that they had clothing *exactly* Sara's size. Kenneth had been convinced that he could win Sara over within a week, and had clothing ordered for her. His plans were thwarted (to Ian's relief) but Sara's oh-so-stubborn-and-independent attitude; but he had never gotten rid of the clothing.  
  
"Would you like me to show you to your room, Sara?"  
  
Sara nodded, scratching her head and running a hand through her hair. Ian could tell that she was tired, not only in body. The past day, though humorous, had been wearisome on both of them. Ian was just better at keeping it from showing. She shuffled behind Ian as he walked out into the hall and started down one of the long corridors. She was surprised by how tired she was not feeling. The estate was a very disorienting place, and Sara doubted she could find her way around to well on her own.  
  
Sara stumbled on the stairs going up, and Ian gave her a concerned glance.  
  
"Are you going to make it?" Ian said, only half kidding.  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
Ian nodded, then without warning reached over and scooped her off her feet.  
  
"Nottingham, what the hell are you doing?"  
  
"Carrying you, *Lady* Sara," Ian said in response to her calling him Nottingham.  
  
"Why?" Sara said, her voice high-pitched and questioning.  
  
"Because I can, Sara. Because I can,"  
  
Sara decided not to argue, and instead just rested her head on Ian's shoulder, enjoying the pampering.  
  
After another set of stairs and a couple of corridors, Ian opened a door, and flipped the light switch on with his back. The room was large, with a huge canopy bed up against the wall in the center of the room. He set her down next to the bed and stepped back.  
  
"I hope the accommodations will be to your liking," Ian said, looking around the room and wondering if he should try to find a better room for her. Though the room he had brought her to was the one the Queen of England had stayed in for a week...he still didn't think it was good enough.  
  
"I think me and the accommodations will get along very well," Sara said with a smile.  
  
"I had one of the maids bring up some clothes. They're there on the bed." Ian said, walking towards the door, "Good night Sara,"  
  
"'Night Ian,"  
  
Ian exited the room and began to close the door behind him.  
  
"Hey Ian?"  
  
"Yes, Sara?"  
  
"Thank you," she said, giving him a warm smile, "I definitely needed an at least semi-sane friend today."  
  
"Semi-sane?"  
  
"You do have that past-life protector thing happening at random intervals."  
  
"Ah yes," Ian chuckled, "Good Night, Sara."  
  
He closed the door, smiling broadly as he stood in the hall. As much of a pain in the ass Loki's tricks were...they seemed to be doing more help than Ian had initially expected.  
  
"Good night, Sara," Ian said wistfully.  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
A/N: Well, I've polish off another hastily written chapter. I hope it was bearable. Things should be picking up in the next few chapters, if that's any consolation. And I have a little favor to ask of ya'll...Sierra Windfire was kind enough to give me a site (run by Oxygen, I believe) wanting info on Witchblade fans. Send it to every one you know!!!!!!!!! I'll be sooooooooooo grateful!!!!  
  
Thanks much and Slan Agat!!!!  
  
-XRaven of the Irish peruasion 


	14. Run jake, run

Thanks to Fae Rain for noting a rather ::ahem:: important grammar error...  
  
Allo allo, folks. So, I would very much like to thank the following people...::IrishRaven breaks out of her box:: Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiii. 'How are ya'? Are you enjoying the story so far? Well, I hope so. Oooo, ooooo! Did you see the '2 Fast 2 Furious' trailer for Matrix Reloaded? I believe I saw a glimpse of the wonderful Eric Etebari in one of those cars!!!' ::gets shoved back into the box:: 'You're in there for a reason!'  
  
Well, thanks to:  
DKM (you get a lil' update on Jake...hehe), Nanz, Eli (Sorry about the headache ::grabs aspirin from Gabe and hands it over::), Spin (more bunnies shall be going poof, but I will send them to you, if you prefer. And about Ian and the shirtless kata...I'll send him over when I'm done with him. take that comment as you may), Fae Rain (much trouble...much trouble), Kitsa (hopefully I won't be running out of weird ideas any time soon, though writers block is on the horizon for me), MsLessa (now there's an idea...::evil grin::), Julia (you won't believe how much wanted smiting...but that'd make things too easy), Jenileigh (I feel special!! exclamation points and grins!!!...I dunno...running out of things to say.), dragongrrl (I hope to get away from the serious as soon as I possibly can.)  
  
And to those of you who didn't review...well...::X sticks her tongue out::  
  
Disclaimer: I own very few things in this life. A computer and my muppets 'Animal' shoelaces are my prized possessions. So, suing me, though it may get you some cool $1.99 shoelaces, is pointless. I own none of the Top Cow characters. I never think I will. (Oooo, I also own a baseball signed by a Cuban baseball team and a devil duckie. Try to take those from me, and I'll cry! Or just send my invisible friends after you.)  
  
Feedback: I live for it.  
  
A/N: Sorry...it's 3am, and I'm once again writing a spiel for this chapter, and a part of the actual chapter. So excuse me if it absolutely sucks!  
  
But I do hope you enjoy this next installment of: "Little Hope of Escape"  
  
April Fools Day, the Witchblade way...  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
Chapter XIV  
  
Sara rolled over in the large bed of the guest room, trying to get to sleep. The bright glow of the Witchblade had her transfixed, and the red glow cast a red colour through out the darkness of the room. Her own personal, pain in the ass, mystic nightlight. The whispers of the Blade were there, in her mind, and she listened to them as she drifted off to sleep. She listened, her subconscious understanding what her mind could not. For the first time, she could hear the voice of a man within the murmurings. Slowly, The Blade allowed her to drift off into sleep...but not without its own reasons.  
  
````````````  
  
Sun light splayed across the white comforter, and Sara opened her eyes slightly, growling softly at the offending ray of sunshine. She closed her eyes again, when she heard the sound of feet pounding in the hallway. Before she could react, a small child had flung himself at her, and knocked the air out of her.  
  
"Mornin', Mummy," the boy said cheerfully.  
  
"Morning' Sammi," Sara muttered, looking at her son. He was almost identical to Ian, except he had Sara's piercing green eyes. He most certainly had his father's knack for being able to move about before eight o'clock, and/or coffee  
  
"Breakfasttime breakfasttime!!!" Sam insisted.  
  
"Let mommy have a few more minutes of sleep," Sara groaned, rolling over.  
  
"Mummy!" Sammi complained.  
  
"Let your mother have a few more minutes of sleep, Samuel," Ian's unmistakable voice called from the doorway, "Go help your sister pour her cereal. Careful with the milk this time."  
  
"Okay Daddy,"  
  
The young boy bounded out of the room, and Sara heaved a sigh of relief.  
  
"Little bundles of joy," her children were the best thing that happened to her, after Ian, of course, but in the morning...they were way too perky.  
  
"At least you married a morning person," Ian said, sitting down beside her on the bed and placing a kiss on her cheek.  
  
"Mhmmm," Sara murmured happily.  
  
Ian leaned over and kissed her again, and Sara moved so that she could see his face more easily.  
  
"I love you, Ian Nottingham,"  
  
Ian smiled and nuzzled her neck and pulled back to look at her, getting a far off look, as if remembering something from long ago.  
  
"What is it?" Sara asked, concerned by Ian's sudden and uncharacteristic lack of focus.  
  
"I couldn't have even dared to dream of this nine years ago," Ian said, playing with her soft hair.  
  
"I dreamt...but I never..." Sara reached her hand out to touch cup Ian's face in her hand.  
  
"Daddy! Lauriel spilled the milk again!!!"  
  
"Duty calls," Ian said with a regretful smile, and leaned over to kiss Sara. She wrapped her arms around him, and protested when he broke the kiss to go deal with their small children.  
  
"I love you, my Sara," Ian said with a smile, managing to pry himself out of Sara's grasp.  
  
Sara groaned again as he managed to evade her, and rolled towards the edge of the bed, trying to will herself to get up.  
  
"Coffee?" Sara called out after Ian.  
  
"You'll have to get out of bed and help me with our little bundles of joy in order to get it,"  
  
"Bribery," Sara sighed, falling back into the bed. She closed her eyes, and heaved a deep sigh.  
  
```````````````````````````````````````  
  
Sara awoke with a start, and looked around the room. She was not entirely sure where she was, but after a few moments, she remembered the events of the past day.  
  
"And what exactly are you getting at, twitchy?" demanded Sara, looking to the Witchblade questioningly.  
  
The Witchblade sounded its odd laughter, and Sara sighed wearily before lying back down.  
  
"You can be more trouble that you're worth," Sara stated, before falling back into a dream-filled sleep. But she wasn't the only one...  
  
```````````````````````````````  
  
Ian was in the forest again: inhabiting Loki's body as he watched Morrigan get attacked by the five men. She was greatly outnumbered, but she was holding her own. Loki was not sure how she could move so quickly, or what metal the blade she wielded was forged of. It was of nothing he had seen. He was not close enough to see exactly what it was, but it looked like an extension of her arm. Loki saw one of the men swing at her head from her blind side, and in a blink of an eye, he was there, blocking the blade from her neck with his bare hands.  
  
All the participants in the fight jumped back in alarm, including Morrigan. Loki kept his grasp on the blade, causing its owners to stare in shock.  
  
"Now gentlemen...'tis not courteous to harass beautiful women. An' 'tis not good for your well-being to harass beautiful young women who wield a powerful and mystic weapon." Loki glanced to the other four men, then back to the man whose sword he had a firm grip on, "Now, I am sure this Lady could tear your throats out, but I wish to speak with her...are you willing to step down, or must we resort to acts of violence?"  
  
The beardless man pulled his sword from Loki's hand, drawing a minimal amount of blood, and prepared to attack again.  
  
"Not very reasonable." Loki said, before dodging the man's sword, and kicking the man square in the chest. He flew a few feet and fell, out cold. The fight resumed, and Morrigan moved as quickly, if not faster, than Loki, running the blade through one of her attackers. She pulled the blade out quickly, letting his body slid to the ground. A sword came at her midsection, and met the metal of a suit of armor. She slashed at the man's chest with the claws of the blade, and he fell, hard.  
  
She glanced over to Loki, who was holding the final standing opponent by his neck. Morrigan raised her eyebrows in surprise as she noticed that Loki was holding him off the ground with one hand.  
  
"Ah, to be mortal," he sighed wistfully, and in a fluid action, snapped the man's neck.  
  
Loki turned to Morrigan, to find that she was holding the blade to his neck.  
  
"Who...what...are you, and what do you seek?"  
  
"A thank you would suffice." Loki said with a shrug, glancing down to the blade at his neck with curiosity.  
  
"This afternoon you told me you were a messenger between the gods...how does a messenger have that much power?"  
  
"Well...I am known more as the 'bad relation' between the gods. And in order to do that, one has to *be* a god."  
  
With that, Loki disappeared, and reappeared behind her. She sensed him, and turned, still on edge.  
  
"In response to why I am here, mi'Lady Morrigan...I fear that I have taken a fancy to you."  
  
Morrigan was taken back by the reply, and the Blade retracted, leaving her with the Gauntlet.  
  
"And...I fear that falling in love with a mortal never works out well for us gods. We grow soft...and get some level of humanity." Loki shivered jokingly at the word 'humanity'. The eerie light the moon cast into the opening in the tree canopy gave the whole scenario a supernatural air.  
  
Loki began to circle Morrigan, and the Witchblade was burning on her wrist.  
  
"Who are you, fair angel? Possessing a weapon even I have never seen, more wit than I have seen in any woman I have seen in this time...vast power...fairer than an angel..." Morrigan could feel his breath on her neck as he moved closer.  
  
"I am the unobtainable jem." Morrigan replied, pulling away from him. She was afraid that this man truly did love her...and that was not something she deal with. She had a very hard time trusting men, let alone letting them get close to her. And this man...god...he was a *GOD*!!! A *God* loving her? Why? What could a god find in her, a mere, though cursed mortal.  
  
"And I am loathing of this power I possess. You are a god, you take it from me," the Gauntlet formed into the bracelet, and Morrigan ripped it from her wrist, and threw it at Loki's feet. He put his hands out, and called it up to him, and it floated over his hands as he inspected it.  
  
"It is not mine to take," Loki replied as it floated above his hand, glowing angrily "It is yours, and yours alone, Morrigan. The responsibility is not one to be taken lightly."  
  
"It is not a responsibility I want."  
  
"You would allow the world to fall into chaos?"  
  
"That's not my quandary."  
  
"But it is, Morrigan. You are mean to counter act me and my works."  
  
"How do you know this?"  
  
"That is the Llan An Cailleach, is it not?" Loki inquired, "Glove of the Witch. I was told to find you. Apparently the blade found my lack of interest in locating you again after our meeting in the market offensive, and so...here I am."  
  
"Why? Why would you let that thing dictate your actions, messenger?" Morrigan asked, gesturing loathingly to the bracelet.  
  
"I am to protect you."  
  
"I do not need protection," Morrigan spat.  
  
"It is not my decision either, mi'Lady. This is a powerful trinket. Apparently it picks opposites in the universe to throw together. You, a mortal who is to keep the world from chaos, and me...the immortal god of chaos and mischief."  
  
"And if I refuse?"  
  
Loki looked into the eye of the bracelet as it floated above his hand.  
  
"I get my way with the world," Loki said with a smirk, "And no one would want that. I would make the world a very strange place. Invent things like 'vegmite' and 'tofu'."  
  
"That does not sound so bad to me." Morrigan said, "What ever it is,"  
  
"Then will you at least accept for *me*?" Loki asked, looking into her emerald eyes, "I would be honored to protect one as strong and beautiful as you."  
  
Morrigan looked from Loki to the Witchblade, to the ground and back again.  
  
"I'll be awaiting your decision, Morrigan," Loki said, levitating the Witchbalde back to her. She looked up, only to find him gone from sight.  
  
She found herself inexplicably attracted to the man...but at the same time feared the love he presented to her so openly. Morrigan closed her eyes, trying to collect her jumbled thoughts before making the long trek home. When she opened them, she found herself in front of her small house, with Ebony standing near the barn, whinnying unhappily.  
  
Morrigan looked up to the bright stars with a slight smile.  
  
"I can say I have a friend up there now, eh, my dear messenger?"  
  
```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````` ```````````````````````````````````````  
  
Sara awoke with a start, her dream interrupted by movement in the room. In the blink of an eye, she was standing on the bed, the blade of the Witchblade extended to the throat of the woman perched on the frame of the canopy bed. The woman only smiled in reply to the reaction.  
  
"Who the hell are you?" Sara demanded.  
  
"Are you always this pleasant in the morning?" the woman inquired with an amused smile.  
  
"I don't know about you, missy, but even if I had coffee, this would not be a good way to start off the morning."  
  
Ian appeared in the doorway, silent as usual, so that neither woman could have possibly noticed him entering. He walked towards them, slowly and silently drawing the sword at his belt as he did. But before he could pull get closer, the intruder moved swiftly, and seated herself in the chair beside Sara's bed, a sword pointed at each of them.  
  
"You are just the most welcoming people," the woman said, keeping her eyes on both of them; but never making eye contact as she kept her face shadowed behind her wavy hair. She glanced over to the Witchblade and smiled, unperturbed.  
  
"That won't do much, Mi'Lady," she said, sheathing the sword pointed at Sara, then looked to Ian, "And you...you're just too old, brother,"  
  
Xeire shook the hair from her face, her penetrating eyes meeting Ian's.  
  
"Xeire?" Ian paused, obviously in shock, "But I thought you were..."  
  
"We were separated when I was four, Ian. You went to a man regarded as a God among men, and I went to a...well...God." Xeire stood and walked about the room with her hands clasped behind her back, much in the same demeanor of both Loki and Ian.  
  
"Ian, who is this?" Sara demanded, still a bit resentful towards the woman who she had found hovering over her when she awoke.  
  
"My sister," he replied, still staring at the woman. He sat down on the edge of Sara's bed with a weary look on his face, "Xeire was...is...my sister. Kenneth told me...he told me that she was dead when I was still a child."  
  
"Your childhood lasted about two weeks." Xeire said coldly, then glanced to Ian, the look her eyes warmer, "I look pretty good for having been dead the past 23 years, huh brother?"  
  
Ian didn't reply, only got up and walked to the window. Sara glanced cautiously to Xeire before getting from the bed to talk to Ian.  
  
"What's going on with you, Ian?" asked Sara quietly as Nottingham stared out the window.  
  
"I attended her funeral when I was seven. Kenneth had a huge, elaborate funeral for the girl that this woman claims to be." Ian said, "I just can't. I do not know what game Loki is playing, but he is dredging up too many memories to have it be humorous any more."  
  
"What game?" Sara asked, "Still haven't been clued in as to what the fuck is going on."  
  
"I am sure he will tell you eventually."  
  
"Why don't you tell me instead, Nottingham?"  
  
"Because it is not my place,"  
  
"I betcha it is," Sara said challengingly.  
  
"Another time, radiant angel, another time," Ian looked back over to Xeire, ignoring Sara's prying and startled look. Xeire smiled, and Ian turned away  
  
He walked to the window and gripped the bar at the windowsill until his knuckles turned white. Sara stepped closer to him and wrapped an arm around him comfortingly. She didn't know what else to do, and was slightly surprised when Ian sighed uncharacteristically and rested his head on her shoulder. Sara knew that Ian believed his behavior was illogical and childish, but she was glad to know that he had emotions, and was capable of expressing them, though infrequently.  
  
"What do you say we find out what she wants, and work our way from there...like what the hell you just said, and possibly how she got past your infallible security system," whispered Sara, deciding to let Ian's reluctance to answer her questions slide. This time.  
  
Ian pulled away so he could look Sara in the eye.  
  
"Since when did you begin caring, Lady Sara?"  
  
"Since when did you begin smiling, Nottingham?"  
  
Xeire watched the two standing in front of the window and smiled to herself. Perhaps this would be easier that Loki had predicted, and she could get back to Cole sooner...  
  
"SARASARASARASARA!!!!!!!" Kenni came running into the room, barreling towards Sara and Ian. Xeire moved and caught him before he made impact with the two. She held him upside down, and Kenni stared up at her, wide eyed with his hair hanging down.  
  
"Kenneth, I asked you to stay downstairs."  
  
"I got bored. Es ist sehr lanweilig in der Kuche!*"  
  
"I bet you could have found at least *something* to amuse you in the kitchen." Xeire said, putting the child down.  
  
"Nein, they took away my pots and pans last time." Kenni said, fidgeting.  
  
"Is this Kenneth's son?" asked Xeire, slightly confused, not aware of Irons having a son.  
  
"No...that's Kenneth," Sara replied  
  
Xeire looked from Sara, to Ian, to the smiling and fidgeting Kenni, then up to the ceiling.  
  
"What other details did you leave out, father?!"  
  
Sara watched this display, and put one and one together.  
  
"Loki raised you?"  
  
"Yes. And he has a knack for leaving important details out." Xeire replied, still looking up.  
  
"Why are you here sis...Xeire?"  
  
"I was hoping you could tell me." Xeire said, "I was under the impression it was a matter of great proportion. Involving high ranking people of."  
  
Xeire felt a slight tug on her sleeve, and glanced down to Kenni.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Can you do that again?" Kenni inquired in awe.  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"The upside down thingy."  
  
Xeire laughed, and glanced to Ian who shrugged.  
  
"Lets go down to breakfast, Kenni. After all, it is your birthday, and we wouldn't want the special meal the cook made you to get cold." Ian said with a faint smile.  
  
"You remembered?" Kenni asked in admiration.  
  
"You betcha," Ian said, his smile still hiding pained emotions.  
  
"Thank you thank you thank you! Vater always forgets.you're the best friend ever! I wish you were my Vati!" Kenni dashed over and hugged Ian.  
  
Sara raised an eyebrow as Ian uneasily returned the embrace. If Kenneth was that excited that Ian merely *remembered* his birthday...Sara shuddered to think about other aspects of Kenni's childhood.  
  
Ian walked towards the door with Kenni sitting on his shoulders and spoke softly to Xeire as they passed.  
  
"We shall speak of why you are here after breakfast."  
  
Ian and Kenneth left, leaving Xeire and Sara standing around looking uneasily at each other.  
  
"Have we met?" Sara asked awkwardly.  
  
"I believe that blade to my throat was enough of a meeting for my pleasure," Xeire said in good humor.  
  
"I mean before that."  
  
"I am lead to believe that I was a sister of Morrigan in one of my many past lives."  
  
"Morrigan...you were Xeian?"  
  
"Yes. Except in this life time, I believe I am younger than you."  
  
"Um...it's nice to meet you...again."  
  
Xeire began to walk towards the door, but paused.  
  
"Is there anything going on between you and my brother?"  
  
"Uh...no," Sara said innocently.  
  
"Pity," Xeire said, closing the door behind her.  
  
Sara stood in front of the window, thinking about what Xeire had just said.  
  
"Just what I needed," Sara muttered, going for the clothes Ian had left for her, "Another darkly dressed, supernatural person in my life."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Ian walked into the kitchen and took Kenni down from his shoulders. On the table was a huge spread of food, the main center piece; a huge plate of chocolate chip pancakes, fruit, a bowl of Raisinettes and gummi bears, various juices, Nutella, and various other breakfast foods. (And Lucky Charms!!!)  
  
"Schocolade pancakes!!!!!!!!" Kenni exclaimed, making a mad dash for the table.  
  
Ian smiled at the young Kenneth's reaction. It made him remember his only good childhood birthday. It was before he had been taken in by Kenneth...there had been other children, a clown (not one of the best parts of the memory) presents, happiness...love...it was one of his last childhood memories that did not consist of spending his birthday alone. Of course, the staff would always sneak him sweets and small presents on his birthdays, but it was not the same. Kenneth would be kinder on Ian's birthdays...occasionally allow him leave from his studies. Until Ian was eight. Then it no longer mattered, Kenneth would pile the duties on, and not even convey that he remembered.  
  
"So, brother, what have you been up to in the past 23 years?" Xeire asked, once again successfully sneaking up on Ian.  
  
"I have the distinct feeling you already know." Ian said with a mournful smile, reminding himself to listen more intently for his sister's footsteps.  
  
"It's funny...one would have never thought Kenni was ever a child." Xeire contemplated, watching the six year-old shovel chocolate chip pancakes into his mouth.  
  
"He speaks as though he had the same childhood as I."  
  
"Nature versus nurture, brother. Nature versus nurture. Very few people are born evil. And there are even fewer born with a cause in the scheme of life. You don't realize how lucky you are, that you and Sara have that luxury."  
  
"What do I have?" Sara asked, tugging at her shirt, slightly uncomfortable with how much of her midriff is showed. And if it made Sara uncomfortable, you know it had to be cut pretty short.  
  
"Insensible clothing?" Xeire offered. Sara looked up to see Xeire giving her a knowing look.  
  
"I believe I have a shirt that would fit you, and be a bit more.concealing," Xeire offered.  
  
"That would be much appreciated."  
  
Xeire disappeared into the staff wing, and appeared a few moments later with a dark blue button-up shirt, which Sara gratefully accepted. She pulled it on over the greenish-blue shirt she wore and buttoned the bottom few buttons. Ian was slightly disappointed at Sara's decision to cover up the skin.  
  
"Ian?"  
  
"Yes Kenni?" Ian looked to the young Irons, who had chocolate all around his mouth.  
  
"Do you want some pancakes?"  
  
"I would like some pancakes," Ian said, humoring the child, "Ladies, would you grace us with your presence and eat pancakes with us?"  
  
"I would be honored," Xeire said with a slight curtsey.  
  
"What she said," Sara said with a yawn. Her 'I-want-coffee-and-I-want-it- now' alarm was going off.  
  
"Pancakes, Sara?" offered Ian.  
  
"Coffee?" Sara inquired, taking the plate.  
  
Ian got up and returned with two mugs of coffee. He handed the first one to Sara and the other to Xeire. Sara excepted her caffeinated goodness with zeal, while Xeire politely refused.  
  
"You don't want to know what happens when I get caffeine, brother."  
  
"Can I have coffee?" Kenni asked, his mouth half-filled with food while reaching for Xeire's mug.  
  
"NO!!!" yelled Ian and Sara (along with the rest of the kitchen staff and the writer.)  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
Jake stepped off the plane and into the warm Los Angelus air. The plane trip had been uneventful, except for a small woman fainting when trying to put her suitcase in an overhead compartment. When she came to, she had blamed it on the complementary liquor she had been given. But still, Jake felt slightly ill at ease. Jake walked towards the terminal with the sun in his eyes, and he pulled off his wig and moustache.  
  
"It's good to be home,"  
  
The plane emptied out, and the below deck storage compartments were being emptied, the baggage handlers seeing how far they could toss the packages labeled *fragile*. Inside the plane, the attendants tidied up and fluffed the pillows, going about their everyday jobs. Imagine their surprise when a long-haired Asian man jumped out of one of the overhead storage compartments and ran past them off the plane.  
  
"Was that..." one of the attendants began, staring at the compartment from which the Asian man had just popped.  
  
"No," the second attendant decided, turning back to her cleaning, "Too much paper work and mental damage it really was."  
  
The other attendant shrugged and went back to her pillow fluffing, trying not to think about what else would jump from the storage compartments.  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
A man in a very expensive suit stood at the head of the table in a dimly lit room. Behind him was a lit overhead projector with the picture of a dark-brown haired man and with brown eyes, and in front of him, a table full of men wearing the same type of suits.  
  
"The time is fast approaching for us to move in, gentlemen," the man at the front of table said, "We have reason to believe that Cole O'Reilly's bodyguard and current lover has left Ireland, and our operatives should be able to move in on him."  
  
"And of the other target?" a grey haired man near the front of the table inquired, "What are we going to do with him, William?"  
  
"She should be easy to capture, Millard."  
  
"What of the Black Dragon?" another man spoke up.  
  
"We have had surveillance Detective Pezzini for the past month, and she seems none to enthusiastic of her body guard...what glimpses our men can get of him, at least. We should have little trouble with him." William replied.  
  
"When will our operatives be moving in?" Millard asked.  
  
"Within the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours," the man said, "When this operation is all over, we will have unquestionable military power."  
  
The lights in the room went on, and the men sat back in their expensive chairs. In the background, a picture of Sara, labeled NYPD Detective/ Wielder was still visible on the screen. William sat down and looked around the table.  
  
"With this power, we should also be able to gain control over the government and the UN."  
  
"You mean we don't already control them?" one man said, getting laughter from the rest of the table.  
  
"I mean complete and *public* control," William smiled.  
  
"What does Irons say of all this?" Millard asked.  
  
"He is a supporter, but we have been unable to get in contact with him."  
  
"Should we send some one to the estate?" asked a bald man to William's right.  
  
"I think that would be the best course of action." William said, "I'll send a man over right away."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: See? Extra long chapter! I think I should get mucho reviews for doing such a good deed. So what if it ended with rich old men and Bill Gates plotting the evil demise of Sara and this new 'Cole' character? Willam...Bill Gates...oops, I just gave away a secret!!!! Hehe.that's what happens when you write at ungodly hours of the...morning? (And when your cursed IBM computer is being sooooooooooooooo slow!!!!!!)  
  
Whew...so you're gonna review, right? I was kinda upset about this chapter, it felt off some how. I want to know what you think. And that way, I won't have to worry about my wandering muse and invisible friend hunting you down for reading and not reviewing, will I?  
  
Hehe. Well, hope you enjoyed the odd twists in the plot. If not, tell me and I'll try to alter it a bit. Tata and Slan Agat  
  
-XRaven of the Irish persuasion. 


	15. Ooops

Howdy do, folks. I apologize for any confusion in last chapter.I hadn't slept in quite awhile. Quite awhile. Wheeeeeeewwwwwww. I was so happy to see those reviews. It made my day. I had all this 'critical lens' crap in English today, and was glad to see you folks are making up for my own loathing of my writing with the positive comments. Now enough of my babbling...lets talk about you, my very-much-appreciated reviewers ;P  
  
Much Thanks to: Fae Rain- (I definitely meant popped. Popped. We'll be seeing more of the evil Bill Gates.); Jenileigh- (Careful there...I already dragged poor Eli into this...); Riyallan- (Jake shall be burnt, crispy toast.); Mako-chan Wolf- (::muse steals chocolate:: And sorry about the Los Angeles thing...proof-reading is futile at 3 am.); Jade- (I called them off, you can come out now); Eli- (You're in for some oddness next chapter. Muahahahahaha.); Spin- (They're being poofeded to you soon...is that a word?); Scooter- (Wha? Now I'm even more confuzzled (yes, you heard me. Confuzzled...); Thelma- (you reviewed. All is forgiven.); Julia- (That's exactly what I'm seein' in my mind too. All X-File-ish. Hehe) ~~~~~And of course, thanks to: Nanz- (LOL), Cutty, DKM, Kitsa, Sierra Windfire,.  
  
Disclaimer: It belongs to the Big Moo and those explosive people. I do, one day, plan on taking over TnT, but until then, I can claim no right to Witchblade or its characters. Bummer, ain't it?  
  
Feedback: ::IrishRaven can be heard screaming from her box.::  
  
And now...onto the next new and shiny chapter.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Chapter XV  
  
Ian carried some of the dished to the kitchen, trying to cut down on the amount of work the kitchen staff would have to do. They had been terrorized enough for one week. He glanced over to Kenni, who was gladly sharing the gummi bears with Sara and Xeire, who at the moment was trying to figure out what exactly they were; and if they were indeed edible. He put the plates by the sink, getting a thankful look from one of the staff members. They weren't paid nearly enough for all the odd crap they had to put up with.  
  
He walked to the back of the kitchen and picked up a package with holes in the side before going back into the dining room. This got a few odd looks from the staff, which he responded to with a smile.  
  
"Hey Kenneth, I have something for you." Ian said, placing the package on a chair.  
  
Kenni got down from his chair and walked over, curious. Sara followed, equally curious as to what Ian was up to.  
  
"Go ahead and open it, Kenni," Ian said, barely able to keep from smiling.  
  
Kenneth went ahead and opened the package, tearing the tape and bow away carefully. He opened the flaps of the box, and opened his eyes in amazement. A small *yip* came from within the box, and Ian reached in to pick up the German Shepard puppy. He handed it carefully to Kenni, who stared at the wriggling creature in awe.  
  
"You...you got him for me? Ein Hund?"  
  
"Her. Ein Hundin." Ian corrected, "And yes, I remembered you said you wanted a German Shepard."  
  
"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!! Dankedankedanke!!!" Kenni exclaimed, placing the puppy on the chair and petting it admiringly.  
  
"You will have to help take care of her, you understand?" Ian said, "And she only knows German commands so far, so telling her to do something in English will not work out to well."  
  
"Yes! Of course" Kenni exclaimed to everything Ian had said, watching the puppy frolic on the floor with a smile that stretched from ear to ear.  
  
Sara watched as Kenni played with the puppy and smiled. She looked to Ian, who was standing by the kitchen door with his arms folded and a smile on his face.  
  
"Hey Kenni, can you give us a few minutes? You and the puppy go play in the other room for a few minutes."  
  
Ian contentedly watched Kenneth walk into the other room with the puppy scampering in behind him.  
  
"All right, Xeire," Ian said, his cheerful face falling, and the name sounding foreign on his tongue, "Why are you here, and what the fuck else does Loki want?"  
  
Sara raised an eyebrow in surprise upon hearing Ian curse. It was not something that she heard often, if at all. She could tell that he was beginning to become annoyed. She also had a feeling that it was partly due to the fact her safety had been compromised by this woman, and that he hadn't been there first. She glanced down to the Witchblade, which was still glowing. She rolled up her sleeve, looking at it with glare. It was smiling again.  
  
"I am here to inform you of some evil scheme my father believes is in play, and we must move to stop it." Xeire replied.  
  
"And what exactly would this evil scheme be?" Sara inquired, grabbing a Raisinette from the bowl.  
  
"I don't know!" Xeire exclaimed, then pointed to the Witchblade, "Ask him!"  
  
"I'm as oblivious as the two of you. Loki is not someone who gives *anyone* the full story. Not even me," Xeire muttered, clenching her fists until Sara was sure she had drawn blood, "And if you insist on continuing the questioning, I may unintentionally break something. It's not good when I get overly aggravated."  
  
Ian and Sara exchanged a glance, then looked back to Xeire.  
  
"Not even a clue?" Sara said hopefully.  
  
Xeire just gave her a death look, and closed her eyes. The Raisinette bowl broke, scattering Raisinettes all over the table and onto the floor.  
  
"I have issues with my anger. I used to be quite docile about it until my father got angry at me for...well, nevermind," Xeire sighed, and took two bracelets from her pockets, then put them on her wrists.  
  
Sara watched this with curiosity, but didn't ask, absentmindedly picking one of the strewn Raisinettes from the table and eating it. Sara had her temper under control for the time being. Everything that had been happening was just too weird to get angry at.  
  
"I need to go make a phone call and check up on my ward. In the meanwhile, I suggest you contact one of the Gabriels." Xeire said, walking towards one of the back doors.  
  
Sara and Ian watched her go with intrigued and startled looks.  
  
"Nice family you got," Sara said after Xeire was out of hearing range.  
  
"You can not choose family," Ian pointed out sullenly.  
  
"But friends are the family you choose, Ian. Make more friends." Sara said, "I'm going to go tend to Kenneth, and I'd suggest you do a little eavesdropping in on Xeire's conversation."  
  
"Why, Lady Sara, are you suggesting that I listen in on Xeire's private phone conversation?" Ian asked, pretending to be aghast.  
  
"I'd never condole such action, Ian...but of course, you didn't hear it from me," Sara said with a grin, then walked into the room in which Kenni was playing.  
  
Ian smiled as he watched her go, and disappeared into the kitchen, to find a good spot to listen in on Xeire's conversation.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Somewhere in Ireland, in one of its many pubs, a phone rang. A very light brown-haired and dark brown-eyed Irish man picked up the phone, still holding the glass he was cleaning in his other hand.  
  
"Allo?"  
  
"Cole?"  
  
"Hey, Xeire, Iye was beginning to wonder when Iye would hear from you."  
  
"I'm sorry it took so long, Cole, but you know how my father is about these missions."  
  
"No trouble, love. Iye'm just glad ta' hear your voice again."  
  
"Are you doing alright over there?" Xeire inquired worriedly.  
  
"Iye'd be doing better if you were here, Xeire," Cole said, leaning against the counter.  
  
****************************  
  
Back on the Irons estate, Xeire was pacing on the black top outside the staff entrance, occasionally checking to make sure that her call wasn't being traced or otherwise bugged.  
  
"I'll get back as soon as I can, but I have to help the Wielder and my brother over here with quite a lot."  
  
"Ayi...but Iye'll get lonely over here wit'out you."  
  
Xeire smiled, imagining the pout he had on his handsome face.  
  
"I'm sure you'll find something to occupy all that spare time. I have to go, Cole. You stay safe now, you hear?"  
  
"I hear you loud and clear, Xeire. I will, if *you* promise to get back as soon as humanly possible."  
  
"I'll see what I can do. In the meanwhile, I want you to stay out of trouble, and check in with me every day at noon, your time." Xeire replied, "I need to go now."  
  
"Love you, Xeire dearie," Xeire glared at the nickname, and Cole could almost see it, "Or should I go back to calling you 'Super-(dresses-in- black,-quicker -than-shadow,-assassin)-woman'?"  
  
"Goodbye love," Xeire said with a smile.  
  
She hung up the phone, and looked around suspiciously. She thought she had heard something...Xeire shook her head as if to clear it of the thought, and walked back into the mansion.  
  
Hanging out the window above where she had been standing was Ian, smiling to himself. That is, until he slipped and fell to the ground below. He lay there in the dust for a moments, wondering how the hell he had managed that one. He got up and dusted himself off before casting a rueful look up to the sky.  
  
"I hope you don't plan on doing that if I have to catch a bullet," Ian said, only half-kidding. He walked back into the house, wondering what Loki had in for him next. And he knew that if it compromised his protecting the Wielder...he would rip Loki's throat out.  
  
In that second, Ian realized something that had been missing most of his life. He had allowed Irons to dictate his actions, Irons was the one who told him to protect the Wielder at all costs...protect the Wielder...do what Kenneth said...protect...Sara.  
  
But now he would do that, because *he* wanted to. He wanted to protect Sara with his life. He wasn't doing it because Irons wanted him to. He was doing so...of his own free will. He would sacrifice himself before seeing Sara dead.  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
Gabriel sat at his computer, trying to find any clue as to what they would soon be up against. Loki had been all but forthcoming about what the Wielder would be up against. Gabriel didn't really trust this god. Sure, Loki had given him some pretty nifty powers, but Loki was know for his deception. A deity known for causing mischief, mayhem, and being an overall trickster.that's not some one who's hands you would want to put your life in. Gabriel continued his advanced web search (in other words, hacking) getting into the higher and higher security sites.  
  
He paused in his typing, and could hear the distinct "hippity-hop" of a killer. Gabriel spun around quickly in his chair, and the rabbit disappeared in a little puff of smoke. Gabe watched this from across the room, a look of puzzlement coming across his face.  
  
"What do you suppose happens to those rabbits when we poof them?" Gabe asked.  
  
"I haven't really thought about it before." After a moment of thought, Gabriel and Gabe just shrugged and went back to their research.  
  
~*~  
  
A woman was jogging through Central Park on the foggy morning of April 2nd. We'll call this jogger "Sue" for our purposes. She reached a water fountain and took a breather. She looked around, and back to the path, and realized that she wasn't sure which way her car was in all this fog. It was uncharacteristically foggy that morning, all over New York State, except in some distinct areas just outside of the City.  
  
She looked down the path again, and could make out the shape of something coming her way. Sue looked harder, and a rabbit hopped from the fog and continued down the path. She laughed to herself, but then was cut short as she saw something else just inside the fog. It was larger this time, and suddenly, Sue was in the middle of a bunny stampede. The fog cleared, as if just for the little white rabbits. The fog fell back upon Sue and the unsuspecting water fountain as soon as the rabbits had past, and Sue stared after them. A sole, slightly over weight rabbit hopped past a few moments later. With that, Sue made a mad dash for her car. She had considered calling the police, but what would she say?  
  
'Officer! There's a herd of wild, fluffy rabbits on a rampage through Central Park!'  
  
She'd be in the drunk tank before she could say "What's up doc?".  
  
With that, Sue brushed the rabbits off her car, and drove home as quickly as she could, overtaking even the taxi drivers in speed.  
  
~*~  
  
"Sara.the puppy made a puddle."  
  
"Oh.uh." Sara grimaced, "We can let Ian deal with that when he gets back."  
  
Xeire walked into the room, her boots silent on the floor. Sara turned to look at her, and noticed the signs of stress on her face.  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
"I'm fine," she said simply, "Ian wants to talk to you. He'll probably be reporting on what he heard during my phone conversation."  
  
"Ooo, stalker man must be losing his edge,"  
  
"He was doing pretty good until he fell from the window and blew his cover."  
  
"Ah," Sara grimaced at the thought, and walked past Xeire and into the dining area. Ian was pacing around in front of the kitchen, and Sara swore she could hear him talking to himself.  
  
"Ian?"  
  
"Sara, hello," Ian said, almost startled that she was there.  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
"Fine, fine, fine," Ian replied, continuing his pacing.  
  
"Uh.did you get any internal organs on that fall.maybe hit your head a bit too hard?"  
  
Sara walked over to where he was and put a hand out, trying to stop his pacing, seeing that it was beginning to make her sea sick.  
  
Ian looked to her hand resting on his arm, and she could see a look of confusion and apology on his face. That was the *last* thing she saw before she was wrapped in Ian's warm embrace, her lips crushed against his. A part of Sara's mind was screaming to knee Nottingham in the groin, but the rest of her mind and boy silenced that urge as Sara wrapped her arms around Ian. Her hands slid underneath his trench coat around his waist and one hand resting on his back.  
  
Ian pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, his tongue flicking enticingly in her mouth. She tasted amazing.it felt so familiar to his lips. They finally had to pull away, Sara gasping for breath, having been caught off guard by the kiss.  
  
"Hello, Cathain,"  
  
Upon hearing those words, Sara was pulled into a vision; one that was surprisingly short, sweet and to the point.  
  
There were flashes of the Wielder Cathain and her protector, Lorcan fighting against each other in battle, kissing...making love...hiding their love from Conchobar...Lorcan jumping in front of a sword that was meant for Cathain...  
  
Sara was brought to the here and know, feeling Ian/Lorcan's hands resting on her back.  
  
"Uh...as sorry as I am to break this to you, Lorcan, I'm not..."  
  
Lorcan put his hand out to silence her.  
  
"No more talking, love,"  
  
He claimed her mouth again, and pushed her back so that her back was against the wall of the kitchen. Luckily, none of the kitchen staff were there to witness this. Even if they had been there, they'd probably be clapping to see Ian finally getting some. Sara rested her hands on his chest, trying to make the decision whether or not to push him away.  
  
Usually she was much more forceful and decisive when it came to this.but the little voice in her head taunted her. Sara knew she wanted this, but she also didn't want to admit to herself she wanted this...and just as she had resigned herself to return the kiss...Ian stepped away, his head bowed.  
  
"Are you back with us now, Ian?" Sara inquired. He merely nodded in response, ashamed that he not been able to control his actions.  
  
"I am sorry, Lady Sara...I..."  
  
Sara put her hand up to his mouth to silence him.  
  
"I forgive you, on one condition."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"That I can do something completely random, no questions asked. I figure you at least owe me that."  
  
"And how would that differ from your usual behavior, Sara?"  
  
Sara punched him on the arm. "Cute, Nottingham, cute. Now go in there and help Kenni with his puppy. Apparently it made a puddle on that antique carpet in there."  
  
Sara pulled out her cell phone as she watched Ian disappear into the side room to deal with the little puppy's mess. She dialed the Talismaniac's number, waiting impatiently for him to pick up.  
  
"Come on, answer the phone, Gabriel."  
  
~*~*~  
  
Gabriel finished printing out the files on various groups looking to gain great power, and with enough assets to take that power by force. Neo Nazis, Muslim extremist groups, terrorists, IRA, humane society, Kenneth Irons.the Roman Catholic Church.  
  
The phone rang in the center of the room, and both Gabriels looked up from their work.  
  
"I'll get it!" they cried in unison, both dashing for the phone. Gabe got there first, but Gabriel grabbed it too, and they yanked it back and forth.  
  
"Hey! I want to answer it!" Gabe protested.  
  
"It's my store, *I* get to answer the phone!" said Gabriel.  
  
"It's been my store for a year longer!" Gabe countered.  
  
"Yeah, and you got it trashed! I get to answer the phone!"  
  
"No, I do!"  
  
"Nu-uh  
  
"Uh-huh"  
  
"Nu-uh"  
  
"Uh-huh!"  
  
"Well...I can smite you!"  
  
"Well...well...I can smite you better!"  
  
"Can not!"  
  
"Can too!"  
  
"Can not!"  
  
"Can too!"  
  
"Cannotcannotcannotcannot!"  
  
With that, Gabe threw an energy ball at Gabriel, who blocked it and threw it back. Gabe ducked, and it flew right out the window. A second later, a car alarm could be heard in the distance.  
  
"Ooops."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ********************************************************************** ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: Cole is not Cole from Charmed. No matter how much I like that character (::fans herself::, I'm struggling to keep this solely a Witchblade fic. Though the temptation to bring some X-Files is getting harder and harder to resist. Conspiracies! Yah! And some odd and pointless line from Mulder. Maybe I will. What do you think of it?  
  
Now, I must say, please excuse the odd seriousness of last chapter. I had to move the plot along a bit. But no fears, plenty of odd and random things to come. Speaking of odd and random...REVIEWREVIEWREVIEW!!!!!!! ::IrishRaven retreats to her box before X can use force to shove her back in::  
  
Slan agat  
  
-XRaven of the Irish; German-speaking persuasion. ;P  
  
So, how ya' liking the story? And I'm running out of ideas (ahhhhhhhhh!!!) so if there's any random thing you want added, give me a ring. All you gots to do is press the little 'go' button. 


	16. A little competition

I have returned!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
::Looks around at the empty auditorium and pouts:: ::Turns around and realizes they're all standing behind her::  
  
I am officially done with finals!!!!!!!! Yes!!!!! Well...at least until next year. The joys of high school never cease. Riiiiiight. I thank you all for hanging in there, and for not writing threatening letters when I didn't post...  
  
Special thanks to: Nanz, Jenileigh: (Not *there's* an idea...I think I'll find a way to fit chocolate covered Ians in there somewhere.), BloodCalling13: (We shall see, we shall see...), DKM: (I'll review, I'll review!), Fae Rain: (I think she'll learn about the powers the hard way), scooter (I may be bringing in the dynamic duo...referring to Mulder and Scully, of course. I'm sorry...anyhow; you're a Witchblade fan, you're already in a cult), Riyallyn (Crispy Crittered Jake...sounds like a recipe I should create.), Eli (Heheeeee! I'm definitely liking the play station idea! Oh, and next chapter...guess who'll be in it? C'mon...guess!), Mako-chan Wolf (Thank you for the chocolate! I needed it for my German exam...and the science exam, and the history exam, and the...well, you get the point), Julia (back to normal? It shall never go back to normal. Hehe), dracula13 (any ideas for the puppy's name?), Thelma (hm...rabbit stew...), MsLessa (that was definitely an Anya moment. I may bring her in later. So what if they killed her off already...), Kitsa (thanks for updating before I did.I would have gone insane), little angel and, of course: msredux.  
  
Well, I decided to make this chapter extra-long, since I was away for awhile...and 'cause my muse was boxed up for quite awhile during finals.  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
Chapter XVI  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
"The 8 o'clock plane for Texas is now leaving from Gate 5. So if that's your plane...get your ass over here NOW!"  
  
Jake looked up to the speaker system in surprise. Apparently the whole country was going insane.  
  
"Crazy Americans," an Irishman muttered as he walked past. (Which, coming from an Irishman, is quite serious...)  
  
Jake looked down to his watch then made another sweep of the terminal with his eyes. He wasn't sure if it was safe to leave the safety of the crowded airport. It may have just been his major paranoia.but he swore he had seen the long hair of an insane Asian man. An insane Asian man who was permitted to carry a weapon in an airport. Jake felt the pocket of his shirt to make sure he still had his 'FBI' ID, and opened his cell phone.  
  
"Hello, this is an secure emergency line. If this is not an emergency, please..."  
  
"Hey, Kristen, is that you?"  
  
"Who is this?" a very confused Kristen asked.  
  
"It's Jake McCarty. Or Jake McBride, if no one else is listening," Jake joked, knowing it was a secure line.  
  
"Jake?! How are you?! Chief has been flipping out! Why didn't you check in?!"  
  
"I'm in some trouble, Kristen. I need you to..."  
  
Jake realized that there was someone leaning over him, and looked up, preparing to tell the guy off. He slowly closed the phone, trying not to make any sudden movements.  
  
"Uh...hey...Danny..."  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
"I wanna go to the park. I wanna go to the park. Iwannagotothepark! Can we go to the park?"  
  
Ian watched the six-year old bounce up and down, quite unenthusiastic about the idea of going to the park.  
  
"You forgot the magic word, Kenni," Sara pointed out.  
  
"Jetzt?" Kenni said, ("Now?")  
  
"Kenneth, I know very little about this 'magic word' but I am quite sure that is not it," Ian replied.  
  
"Eh...Please?"  
  
"Much better," Sara said, going back to studying the tapestries with a minimal amount of interest.  
  
"So...can we go?"  
  
"No," Ian replied simply.  
  
"Bitte? Please?Bittebittebittebittebittebittebittebittebittebittebittebittebittebitt e bittebittebittebittebittebittebittebittebittebittebittebittebittebittebitteb ittebittebittebittebittebittebittebittebittebittebittebittebittebittebittebi ttebittebittebittebittebittebittebittebittebitte..."  
  
"He has to stop to breathe eventually, right?" asked Xeire.  
  
"Only in theory," Ian replied.  
  
"Maybe if you say yes, he'll breathe before he passes out," Sara suggested.  
  
"Do I have to?" Ian complained, only half joking.  
  
"It *is* his birthday," Sara added.  
  
Ian sighed, then look to Kenneth, who was still pleading.  
  
"Kenneth," Ian said, trying to be heard above the three-year olds pleading, "KENNETH!"  
  
Kenni stopped bouncing and took a deep breath, staring wide-eyed at Ian.  
  
"Ja?"  
  
"You can go to the park."  
  
"Yah!" Kenni exclaimed, scampering off to get his shoes.  
  
"All right, lets go," Sara said, motioning Ian and Xeire to follow.  
  
Ian just gave her the look of a deer staring into the headlight, or the cow staring into the train light...(either way, a rather large animal about to be hit by an even larger, faster moving vehicle)  
  
"Nowhere in those past few sentences did I hear anything that sounded like me agreeing to go to the park," Xeire said, looking up from the book she was reading.  
  
"Well, one of you will have to go with me. Work it out among yourselves. I'm going to go call Gabriel." Sara said, walking out to investigate the loud noises in the room Kenni had just disappeared into, "It'll take more than the Witchblade to deal with this kid, and maybe even *more* that a highly trained super-assassin."  
  
Ian turned to face Xeire, and they sat there for a moment before she got an idea.  
  
"Rock paper scissors?"  
  
Ian smiled. Certainly he could easily win a game so childish.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Ian scowled as he pulled the car into the parking lot for Central Park. He couldn't believe he lost.  
  
"I want to play with the goats!" Kenni declared.  
  
Sara helped the young boy out of the car before breaking the news to him.  
  
"Kenni, there are no goats in Central Park,"  
  
"Then what's that chewing on Ian's coat?"  
  
Sara turned to see that indeed, there were goats in Central Park. Or there was at least one. And currently, it was pre-occupied with Ian's coat.  
  
Ian shook it off, reminding himself that it was an innocent albeit confused animal, and did not deserve to be killed. Besides...he might upset the other residents of the park if he suddenly whipped out a huge sword and killed a goat. (And it would probably upset the readers too...though they're a weird bunch, those readers...)  
  
"So Kenni, what do you want to do?" Sara asked, putting the leash on the puppy and letting it jump from the car.  
  
"Uh...I dunno..."  
  
"Lets just walk than, shall we?" Ian said, cautiously moving away from the goat.  
  
"Sounds like a great idea. But first..." Sara turned to Kenni, "Now, we went over this in the car. If some one asks you, what is your name?"  
  
"Uh...Kenni Nottingham. And if I get lost, my daddy's cell phone number is 1-914-726-9663."  
  
"Okay, good. We're all set to go," Sara said, handing the puppy's leash to Kenni.  
  
"Why didn't you give him 'Pezzini' as a last name?"  
  
"I know a lot of people around here, Ian. They would find it surprising to suddenly learn I had a kid."  
  
"Well, it is news to me that I have one," Ian replied, keeping an eye on Kenni as he ran ahead, "And quite near impossible."  
  
"Right, Ian. I'm sure there's some girl out there who could have theoretically..."  
  
"Not to my knowledge," Ian muttered. Sara stopped walking, and looked at him in surprise.  
  
"You mean you never..."  
  
"Sara...my fa...Kenneth has given me many pieces of advice...one of those was to never discuss one's sexual exploits with a woman. Or lack thereof."  
  
"Wow, Ian...You always struck me as quite the ladies man," Sara jested.  
  
"Oh yes...I fit that in between the brutal training of my youth and the military. There was a whole three hours."  
  
"Women dig men in uniforms,"  
  
"Well, some women 'dig' men dressed in layers and layers of all black." Ian replied, as serious as he could make the statement.  
  
"I suppose they do," Sara said with a laugh, slipping her arm through Ian's when he offered it to her, then said, mainly to herself, "I suppose they do,"  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
After ten minutes of arguing over who would drive, Gabriel sat dejectedly on the passenger's side of the car. Gabe had used the argument 'I can react to things before they happen, since I've been through it all before'. Gabriel was too confused by that point to argue any more.  
  
"Did they say where in the Park to meet them?" Gabriel asked.  
  
"All Sara said was 'Central Park'. I'm sure we'll be able to find them. They're the most mixed-matched couple you could find in Central park. An assassin wearing layers and layers of all black, even though it's spring, and a cop with outrageously tight shorts. Oh yeah, and the five-year old version of a multi-billionaire."  
  
"Six-years old," Gabriel corrected, remembering hearing Sara mention Kenneth's birthday during their phone conversation.  
  
There were a few moments of silence, and Gabriel reached forward and turned on the radio. The radio was tuned onto a news channel, and Gabriel reached forward to change the channel, but paused.  
  
"And in other news, the situation at the L.A. airport has worsened severely. The two men are still in a deadly stand off. The men have been identified as Jak..."  
  
Gabe hit the button, changing the channel.  
  
"Hey!" Gabriel protested, then changed it back.  
  
".....ny Woo. Both are police officers of the 111th precinct in New York City. Little is known about this issue between the two NYPD officers, and we cannot get in touch with their precinct to get any background."  
  
The car screeched to a halt, both Gabriel and Gabe staring wide-eyed at the radio.  
  
"Was that..." Gabe started, looking to Gabriel.  
  
"You don't suppose..." Gabe and Gabriel paused and exchanged a glance. Seconds later, the car peeled out, racing towards Central Park.  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
Cole finished putting up the bar stools, and glanced around the pub to see if he had forgotten to do anything else. Usually he had Xeire and Claire to help him...but he had sent Claire home early, so she could be with her daughter Sheena. Cole flipped the sign to 'Closed', and started towards the back, where a staircase led to his flat. Unfortunately, the bed would be rather empty today, since Xeire was off on one of her missions.  
  
He had been so grateful when Loki had dismissed her from her duties. Loki had always loathed Cole, and Xeire's choice to be with him instead of some high-ranking demon or god. The only reason Loki hadn't smitten him by then was because Cole wasn't mortal. He possessed supernatural powers, and was thought by some to be a half-god, or possibly a 'messenger'.  
  
It was the only reason Cole had been spared by Loki so far. Loki had a soft spot for messengers between the gods, especially ones that were half- mortal. But the fact that Cole was married to his daughter...well...Loki was a very protective father when it came to that. Cole couldn't quite figure that out...the man...god, whatever; sent her on hazardous and sometimes near-impossible missions...but yet his excuse for not wanting the two of them together was:  
  
"I don't want you to get hurt"  
  
A sound on the street outside the pub brought Cole back to reality, and he pushed the curtain aside to see what it was. The street was empty. The leaves, wind and rain were its only inhabitants, and they danced up and down the street in an old, eerie dance.  
  
Cole shrugged and turned around, only to see a fist coming at his face. He ducked and rolled out of the way, and came up, looking at his four attackers. They were dressed in black, but Cole had the suspicion that they were wearing suits and ties underneath the black jump suits.  
  
"Allo, boys," Cole said with a smile, "I thought Ireland was out of your jurisdiction."  
  
He got no reply and he took the time to look his opponents over. They were dressed in black, with ski masks over their faces. These type of men had no personalities to speak of, which made dealing with them quite...dull. Cole would almost look forward to it when they pulled a gun or swung at him, since it would at least be a movement that showed there were living beings under those suits and masks.  
  
"Well, I think I'll depart before you pull a ray gun on me like you did last time." Cole's eyes began to glow a brilliant green, and he disappeared from sight, when one of the men called out.  
  
"We have Claire Fitzgerald," the man said, knowing perfectly well that though they couldn't see Cole: he was still in the room. Cole didn't speak, not wanting to key them off as to where he was.  
  
"And her child. If you don't turn yourself in within the next forty-eight hours, we will kill Ms. Fitzgerald, then the child. We will be back for you, Mr. O'Reilly."  
  
With that, the men disappeared through the front door, breaking the window in the process.  
  
"The damn door is unlocked, you ejits. What's so hard about turning the damn fuckin' knob and walking out like normal people," Cole muttered, reappearing next to the bar, and pouring himself a strong drink.  
  
He would need a few more drinks and some time to think in order to figure out his course of action. He had the duty to keep himself safe in order to protect an important balance of power...but he also had his duty to Claire.  
  
After his second drink, Cole reached for the phone to call Xeire, hoping that he would get her voice mail. If he had to tell her this personally, it would be harder for her. And for him. Following a few more moments of silence, he picked the phone up from its cradle and dialed the number.  
  
It rang once...twice...three times...four...five...two more to go...six...  
  
"Hello?" Xeire's sweet but strong voice inquired.  
  
"Xeire,"  
  
"Cole? What's the matter?" She paused, "Has something happened?"  
  
"Oy...Not yet," Cole replied with a sigh.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"They've kidnapped Claire and her kid...an' they said they'd kill 'em if I don't give myself up willingly," Cole pushed the shot glass around on the bar while awaited Xeire's reaction.  
  
"No," she replied simply, "You can't,"  
  
"Technically, love, Iye can. You're the one that taught me I always have a choice."  
  
"Forget what I said. I was probably drunk when I said that. Just don't, Cole...please..."  
  
"You? Drunk?" Cole laughed. Xeire held her liquor better than anyone he had ever met.  
  
"Cole...you're treating this like a joke, and it may be like one to you, but to me, it is not one fucking bit funny. They'll kill you if you turn yourself in, or worse."  
  
"Iye know," Cole sighed, "Iye know that. But if I've been put here to do good.shouldn't I do this? I can't sit here while Claire and Sheena die."  
  
"Then wait for me, Cole. I'll help you,"  
  
Xeire's voice was almost desperate as she pleaded over the phone.  
  
"I can't wait for you, Xeire. You have your duties, and I have mine. And this one I'm going to have to do on mi' own."  
  
"You be careful," Xeire warned, "So help me god, if you go out there and get yourself killed, I'm going to resurrect you and beat the shit out of you."  
  
"Ya' really know how to turn a guy on, don't you, love?"  
  
"That was a promise, Cole O'Reilly. You stay safe, mi'love. I don't even know why I say that. Danger just follows you like a fecking heat seeking missile."  
  
"Me, get into danger? Never. Slan Agat."  
  
Xeire heard the click of phone, and collapsed back into her chair. She would not be able to stop him, however she tried. She could only hope that he had a plan for escape. It would have to be a good plan too, since these men Cole was dealing with were a very serious threat, even to someone with Cole's abilities.  
  
After a few moments of nervous pacing, Xeire sat down and turned on the news. The television was always helpful if you wanted to clear your mind of any intelligent thoughts.  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
Ian kept an eye on the frolicking Kenni, and the unnamed dog as they walked through the park, making sure the six-year old version of his employer didn't disappear. Sara walked beside him, also subtly surveying the area. Apparently he was not the only one who liked to be very aware of his surroundings. He was about to tease her about it, but he was quite the comment would ensure him an elbow to the ribs, and an uneasy silence.  
  
He was painfully aware of Sara's arm looped through his as they walked down the park's path. And for just a few moments, as the cool breeze wafted through the spring air...he felt normal. He was walking through the park with Sara at his side, watching his employer scamper around with a puppy. Okay...so it wasn't quite normal... but it was better that what was *usual*.  
  
"Hey! Pezzini! Sara Pezzini!"  
  
Ian heard the voice call out from his right, and felt Sara freeze. A man with light brown hair and blue-grey eyes cut across the grass, and Ian tensed. He could sense that Sara knew this man, but was still on guard. Of course, it was a rare occasion indeed if Ian was not on guard.  
  
"Hello Andy," Sara said, removing her arm swiftly from Ian's, and hugged the man.  
  
Ian stepped back from the two, partly out of habit, and partly due to his unease. But he did not go too far...he already disliked this man.  
  
"How've ya' been, Pez?" Andy asked, taking a step back and looking her over, "You haven't changed."  
  
"And you've put on some weight," Sara said, hitting him in the stomach playfully, "I'm doing good, Andy. How's life in Chicago?"  
  
"Not much different from life in New York, except colder. I'm working as the head of security for a computer and software company," Andy said, a hint of pride in his voice, "What are you up to these days?"  
  
"I'm working for the NYPD, 111th precinct. It probably doesn't pay as well as a computer company, Mr. 'I'm-living-the-good-life', but it's a living."  
  
Andy was about to say something else, when he noticed Ian standing with them.  
  
Ian supposed it was because he made a movement, which had caught the man's attention. He was now holding onto Kenni, who had tripped over his dog's leash, and almost had a rather nasty encounter with the concrete of the sidewalk. Kenni latched onto him, putting his arms around Ian's neck. Ian decided it would be good for the boy's own safety to allow him to stay there. Kenneth was a rather reckless child.  
  
"You gonna introduce me to your friend, Pez?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, sure," Sara said, slightly distracted by the sight of Nottingham. He looked like a father protecting his son.and wondered where he could have learned that sort of behavior from. Irons did not seem as though he had been a very supportive father, and only protective in the "keep-you-from-a-healthy-childhood" sort of way.  
  
"Andy Gregors, Ian. Ian, Andy. Andy and I went to the academy together," Sara explained. Sara wasn't too worried about giving out Ian's last name, since she doubted the man had any records, or even a birth certificate.but she decided to let Ian keep his anonymity with Andy...Andy was the sort of guy who would try to look him up.  
  
"It is nice to meet you, Mr. Gregors," Ian shook Andy's offered hand, his grip slightly stronger than necessary.  
  
"Call me Andy," he said. His face grew into on of puzzlement as he looked from Sara, to Ian and Kenni.  
  
"You have a kid now, Sara?"  
  
"Uh...he...uh"  
  
"Mr. Gregors, I'd like you to meet Kenni Nottingham. He is my nephew," Ian said, "Sara has graciously volunteered to help me, being it that I am not very good with children."  
  
"You could have fooled me," Andy muttered under his breath. The guy looked like a natural, aside from the dark clothing and an intimidating demeanor.  
  
"So, Ian, how long have you known Sara?" Andy asked, trying to seem casual.  
  
"About a year," Ian replied, then finished silently, 'A year, five months, three days, forty-five minutes...'  
  
Ian bit his tongue, realizing just how desperate this woman had made him...how desperate he was to be around her.  
  
"What do you do, Ian?"  
  
"Ian is Kenneth Iron's bodyguard," interjected Sara, sensing the steadily growing tension.  
  
"*The* Kenneth Irons?" Andy inquired, taken back by the response, "The billionaire?'  
  
"Yes,"  
  
"You must make a lot of money,"  
  
"I suppose I do,"  
  
"Do all of his employees dress like you?" asked Andy, while he tried to contain a smirk.  
  
"Not to my knowledge," Ian said, "Do all of your employees wear such appalling ties?"  
  
Sara had to do a double take to make sure it was Ian who had just spoken. Andy gave no response, only glared.  
  
The two men stood there for a few moments, glaring at each other. Sara was waiting to hear the western movie-music in the back ground, or at least for one of them to pull a gun. She felt the Witchblade burning, and was sure Loki was sitting on the edge of his seat to see what would happen.  
  
"Okay boys...Ian, we need to get going. Andy, it was great seeing you, give me a call when you have time." Sara looked to Ian, grabbed the sleeve of his coat and pulled him along with her.  
  
Andy watched them go, and self-consciously adjusted his tie.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"What the hell was that, Nottingham?"  
  
Sara demanded once they were out of Andy's hearing range.  
  
Ian lifted Kenni from his shoulders, handed him the puppy's leash, and pointed the young boy to a spot of grass where he could finish his frolicking.  
  
"I am sorry for my behavior, Lady Sara. I was feeling slightly...threatened," replied Ian, subconsciously rubbing the bracelet on his wrist. Tendrils from the bracelet were still attached to his ring, but it had been dormant, thankfully.  
  
"You, feel threatened?" Sara asked, her good nature (yes, she has a good nature, folks) returning.  
  
"I must admit, it was a first," Ian replied with a smile, even though it was definitely not a first, "However, I feel that he should not be trusted, Sara. Tell me if he contacts you? Please?"  
  
Sara was ready to tell him off, that it was her life, and he didn't need to play the protective boyfriend part of it. But she sensed it to...Andy was...different from last time she had seen him. The Witchblade had sensed it as well...but would divulge nothing more.  
  
Ian offered his arm once again, and they continued through the park as Kenni followed along on the grass. They walked in silence for awhile, until they spotted two men walked towards them. One had the baggy hood of a sweatshirt concealing his face, and the other one was Gabriel.  
  
"Hey Chief,"  
  
"Hi Gabe, who's your friend?"  
  
Gabriel glanced to the hooded person, then back to Sara.  
  
"I don't think we can discuss that here, Sara,"  
  
Gabe looked at the two from under his hood, and moved away from Ian. Ian looked at the hooded man for a few moments, and a look of realization that he could not control came over his features.  
  
"What I can say right now is: we need to catch a plane."  
  
"What are you talking about, Gabriel?"  
  
"I know where Danny and Jake are...and it's turned into a stalemate showdown."  
  
"Okay, Gabriel.where?"  
  
"Los Angeles,"  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
Tada!  
  
I hope you enjoyed it. Did you? Huh? Did you enjoy it? Are you going to review? You know you want to...just press the little "Go" button...you know you want to...  
  
::IrishRaven notices X standing behind her::  
  
Uh...but of course, if you don't *want* to review, that's fine...::whispers:: reviewreviewreviewreview!  
  
::Runs in two separate directions when pursued by X::  
  
Next chapter we should be seeing so X-Files, and some interesting developments in the Jake and Danny situation...you want to see it posted sooner? Well...press the button...press da button...  
  
Slan Agat  
  
-XRaven 


	17. Airport Adventures pt1

Author: IrishRavenX  
  
Title: Little Hope of Escape  
  
Disclaimer: Guess who doesn't own Witchblade, yeah, that'd me, baby.  
  
O_o...don't rub it in.  
  
Thanks to all who reviewed...I haven't had time for individual responses to the reviews this time around...(I regret that...I find it quite fun).  
  
So, for today, a generic THANKS to everyone...the reviews keep me going!  
  
Authors Note: Sorry about the infrequent posts..my muses are beating on me, and I've been spending most of my time reading Carl Hiaasen books. If you haven't read anything by him...go out and buy one. I'd recommend "Tourist Season", or "Double Whammy". Hehe. Now that I'm done advertising...onto the story...  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
Chapter XVII  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
Central Park was quiet for the time of day, and the dew on the grass was beginning to evaporate as morning turned into afternoon. The bunnies were quietly grazing on the lawn, wisely deciding to stay out of view of the Wielder.  
  
The birds could be heard, mainly pigeons; the faint conversations of passing joggers, as well as the people trying to spend the full extent of their lunch break out of the office. And those statue people who scare the b'jesus out of the tourists. Okay, so maybe it wasn't silent...but it was calmer than usual.  
  
It was all calm and peaceful, until a yell echoed through the calm New York City park.  
  
"He's what?!"  
  
Gabriel cringed, and looked around the part, hoping that Sara's outburst hadn't attracted too much attention. Gabe lifted his hood and looked at the smiling Ian and enraged Sara.  
  
"Geez, Sara, lets try to keep a profile on the 'low' side."  
  
"A low profile, Gabriel?" Sara asked loudly, "This is New York...people don't notice, don't care, and are damn difficult people to surprise. You could dress Ian up in pink and cover him in chocolate, and few people would care. Sure, maybe a few would stop to lick him, but other than that..."  
  
Sara paused...a chocolate covered Ian...that was actually a pretty nice thought...  
  
"There are now two Gabriel Bowmans?" Ian asked ignoring the chocolate comment. He was still amused by the two men.  
  
"Yeah, that's the main gist of it," Gabriel replied.  
  
"So...you're twice as annoying now," Ian noted with a nod.  
  
Gabriel narrowed his eyes, and moments later Ian flinched as a bolt of electricity ran up his arm. He reached down to the band on his wrist, startled. Ian looked to Gabriel, who was smiling from ear to ear.  
  
"That was not nice, Gabriel," Kenni scolded, his face fixed with a look of six-year old determination.  
  
"What?" Gabriel asked, shrugging innocently.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Xeire watched the coverage of the Los Angeles situation, grinning. She sometimes found her father's antics annoying and crude...however this...this she found highly amusing. She had nothing against either Detective Woo or Detective McCarty...but this was as funny as hell. The authorities didn't know what to make of it...and why should they? Two colleagues, police nonetheless, without a prior records...  
  
The lady on the television screen was trying to make sense of it, but she wasn't much better of a job than the guy on channel 5. The only comment they had gotten was from a police officer, who had said in a thick Boston accent;  
  
"It's f'iggin' wei'd,"  
  
(A/N: Which roughly translates to "friggin' weird". No matter where you are in the U.S., it seems like the police officer that gives a quote has an outrageous accent of some sort...an accent even more elaborate than the normal. Okay, back to the story...)  
  
Xeire could understand why the whole mess had the police stumped...yet it was still hilarious. Probably not so much for the officers on the scene, or the people trying to go on vacation...or for anyone employed by the Los Angeles airport...or for any one in the immediate area.  
  
The telephone rang, and Xeire ignored it, for the first five rings. When no one picked it up, Xeire reached over for it, nearly falling out of her seat in the process.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Xeire?" Ian's voice inquired.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Can you meet us at the JFK airport in forty-five minutes?"  
  
"Yes...but first may I inquire why?"  
  
"Not now, no,"  
  
"Let me rephrase that...why?" Xeire said flatly. There was no response, and Xeire spoke again after a few moments, "You realize that I do not appreciate these sort of surprises, correct?"  
  
"I assumed as much,"  
  
"As long as that is *very* clear."  
  
**************************************************************************** ************  
  
Ian opened the glass door of the main airport terminal, allowing Sara, Kenni, and Xeire to walk in. He let the door shut in Gabe and Gabriel's faces (or is that *face*? Having two doubles from different time periods is messing with my plurals...and tenses...hell...it's fecked up all of my grammar. If it's even plausible that my grammar could be mussed with any further...)  
  
Xeire looked around the airport at all the people, rather nervous. She didn't like crowds...she didn't particularly like people, either.  
  
"Uh, Mr. Nottingham..." Gabe inquired from under his hood, "Why aren't we taking one of your employer's private jets?"  
  
Xeire replied for him:  
  
"A plane, the passengers being six people linked to the Witchblade...35 thousand feet up...the possibilities for my father to mess with us are without end. This way we are ensuring our safety.'  
  
"Also, the private jet would be unable to land in the L.A. airport due to the current situation. This plane is landing in a separate terminal, and from there, we will be able to get to Detective Pezzini's psychotic partners,"  
  
"I'm getting the feeling that we'll just be putting the lives of innocent bystanders at risk," Sara said, locking gazes with Xeire.  
  
"My father would not do such a thing."  
  
"Really? I got the impression..."  
  
"We need to have our tickets checked," Ian interrupted, wishing to avoid the impending apocalypse that would occur if the two women got into a fight. Ian made a note to separate them on the plane.  
  
Ian made his way through the crowd with grace, and the others followed, not having such an easy time navigating through the crowds of the airport. The airport was characteristically packed, with all different sorts of people... business-men, families going on vacation, couples going on romantic getaways, family members seeing their kids off...  
  
Sara stopped when Kenni ceased walking, and stared at a young boy standing next to his father. The father was a tall man, with light hair, with presence that demanded attention. The boy had dark brown hair, and was about Kenni's age. He saw something in the crowd, and the young brown-hired boy's eyes lit up.  
  
"Mummy!"  
  
A small boy ran and jumped into his mother's arms, who dropped her bags to catch him. Kenni watched this, the joyful mood he was in disappearing, and a look of pain in his eyes.  
  
"Kenni? What's wrong?" Sara asked.  
  
"Nothing," the small boy replied.  
  
"That doesn't look like a 'nothing' face, Kenni,"  
  
The small boy looked up, his blue eyes tearful.  
  
"I miss her."  
  
The emotion in those simple words were so powerful, Sara was unable to reply for a few moments.  
  
"I know, sweetie, I know. But we need to make the best of what we have here. I'll tell you what," Sara said, putting her hand on his head reassuringly, "If it would make you feel better...just think of us as your family for now."  
  
Kenni looked up to the mix-matched group of people and smiled.  
  
"Okey,"  
  
Sara gave him a reassuring smile and rubbed his hair.  
  
"Want to get a coloring book when we get to our gate?"  
  
"Färbenden Buch?" Kenni inquired, his six-year attitude slowly returning.  
  
"Yeah," Sara said, with a reassuring smile, "Färbenden Buch,"  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
"Can I help the next person in line?" asked the clerk at the 'First Class' booth. Ian stepped forward and handed the clerk the tickets.  
  
"Hello, Mr. Nottingham. How many people are flying with your party today?" asked the clerk (whose name tag read 'Cindy'), while looking at the tickets.  
  
"Six, and one extra seat, please."  
  
The clerk worked behind the counter, scribbling illegible things down on the tickets. She glanced up from the counter to look at the man, wondering if it would be wise to ask too many question. The man was wearing a long black coat, and Cindy wondered whether or not it would be wise to inform him that he'd have to take it off to go through the security check...  
  
"Any items to check?"  
  
"No," Ian was seriously thinking about having Kenni put in the plane's hold.  
  
"Here you are, Mr. Nottingham. Enjoy your flight,"  
  
Ian took the tickets and placed them in his pocket and walked to the back of the line where Sara and the others were waiting. They were a very mix- matched bunch. Two assassins; one the daughter of a god, a beautiful cop, two vagran...shopkeepers, and the six-year old version of a hundred year old billionaire. The Witchblade certainly did have a sense of humor.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A man and a woman, dressed in business suits sat in the airport terminal for a connecting flight to Los Angeles. The woman had blue eyes framed by brilliant auburn hair, and was leafing through a folder, her hand covering the portion of the folder that read 'Confidential'. The man had brown hair and hazel eyes, and his tall figure was stretched across the seats behind the woman, his hand supporting his head as he rested.  
  
"Mulder, how is it that you manage to get us the most inconvenient connecting flights?" Dana Scully inquired, looking over a case file.  
  
Fox Mulder chewed thoughtfully on a sunflower seed before responding.  
  
"Well, Scully, I just can't get enough of you. This way I get to spend long hours with you, sitting around in airport terminals and ogling."  
  
Scully looked over to see Mulder smiling, the playful expression lighting up his eyes. Scully couldn't help but smile, and went back to reading the file. She flipped through the pages, searching for something, until she finally closed the folder and dropped it onto Mulder's lap.  
  
"Okay Mulder...I give up, what makes this an X-File?"  
  
"Two men, police officers without previous records, suddenly go off at one another, locked in a deadly stalemate in a Los Angeles airport. I don't know about you, Scully, but that doesn't seem like normal behavior to me." replied Mulder as he spit the sunflower seed into the garbage can beside him.  
  
"You? Normal behavior?" Scully suggested, "It is quite possible that one of them just got tired of being dragged around on outrageous, out of the way cases."  
  
Mulder looked over the chair at Scully, who only smiled in response.  
  
"In any case, this event hasn't been the only irregularity concerning the precinct these officers worked in. Apparently, there's been reports of wild animals overtaking the precinct, zombies, and various other abnormalities."  
  
"Zombies?"  
  
"Yeah, Scully, you know...the living dead, undead eaters of flesh, abominations..."  
  
"I get the point, Mulder. Now, why aren't we just going to the precinct and questioning some of the officers?" Scully asked, "It says that the office is right in this area."  
  
"No one is at the precinct. The officers have all disappeared. The only one seen recently is a Detective; "Sara Pezzini". But no one has been able to get in touch with her."  
  
"Has anyone tried her home address?"  
  
"Local authorities report that she isn't there, and hasn't been there in the past day."  
  
Scully looked over the picture of the detective. She didn't look like someone who would be working for the NYPD, but the woman's eyes told a different story. Detective Pezzini looked like she was a woman to be reckoned with, though not someone you would like to piss off.  
  
"She's pretty hot, what do you think, Scully?" Mulder asked with a teasing look on his face.  
  
"I think she'd rip you in two."  
  
"But that's *your* job, Scully,"  
  
"Hey Mulder?" Scully asked.  
  
"Uh-huh?"  
  
Scully looked at him sternly for a few moments before suddenly reaching over and tickling him. Mulder fell off the chairs he was lying on, and Scully went back to reading the files as if nothing had happened.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"I'm still not sure that this is a good idea, Sara," Gabriel said, "So many things could go wrong...weirdness just seems to follow us."  
  
"If Xeire says we'll be all right, I'm going to take her word for it," Sara replied.  
  
"Eh...I'm flattered, but I'm getting the feeling..." Xeire stopped and turned around. Sara followed her gaze, and saw a mime following them on roller skates.  
  
It honked a horn as he passed Sara and Xeire, then slowed to match Ian's pace, mimicking his stern face and long stride.  
  
Ian glanced over to the mime, and continued on, ignoring it. The people in the terminal were beginning to take notice of the mime and the assassin, pointing and snickering. Ian looked over to the mime again, and glared. This only made the mime become more annoying, and soon a crowd began to grow around them, looking and laughing.  
  
In one swift movement, Ian put his leg out, tripping the mime and causing it to go flying. The mime landed on the floor while still in motion and slid into the crowd, taking out a few tourists in the process.  
  
The crowd quickly dispersed, and Ian allowed himself a small smile. Taking down a mime and a few tourists...always a promising way to start the day.  
  
**************************************************************************** *************  
  
Xeire stopped at the sight of the metal detector, and after a few steps, the rest did too.  
  
"They are going to ask me to take off my trench coat, aren't they?" Xeire inquired, quickly going over the things that she had on her that she would not be able to take on the plane; and could possibly be arrested for.  
  
"How are we going to get Ian through the metal detector?" Gabe inquired in a hushed whisper, looking at the long line of people being patted down by security and having the wand run over them.  
  
"He has an arsenal under there," Gabriel said, pointing to the trench coat.  
  
"I left most of my weapons in the car," Ian replied quietly, moving Gabriel's hand away from his coat, "I am quite sure I will be able to make it through."  
  
"What about the blades in your boots?" Xeire asked.  
  
"I don't...how did you know about those?" inquired a slightly startled Ian.  
  
"Don't ask...just think,"  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I really hope you liked the chapter...  
  
And you know what would make me ecstatic...if you pressed the little button and reviewed...only three minutes of your time. It'll make my week!!!!!!!!! (Yeah, I'm that pathetic :P ) 


	18. Airport Adventures pt2Wheeling

(There is a note at the end about where to find more of this story, which is now under Eli's control.)  
  
More story for the faithful reviewers. And more story for those who don't review at all, I guess.  
  
But I'm not really updating for those who don't review...since I'm not even aware that they read this story. However, if you do review, I will know, and therefore, you will exist in my world. So think to yourself...  
  
"I review, therefore I am."  
  
What did I just say?  
  
Beats the hell out of me.  
  
Here's some story to confuse you further.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter XVIII  
  
Sara pushed the wheel chair (in which a very unhappy Ian sat), towards the long line of people waiting to get through the metal detector. She looked down at Ian, who was sitting back in the wheelchair, looking rather uncomfortable. The wheelchair attracted attention, and Ian was not one who appreciated attention.  
  
It was not easy to stalk through the shadows when he was in a wheelchair. And *wheeling* through the shadows was not all that intimidating...or stealthy, for that matter.  
  
"Sara, I am quite sure that this is a plan doomed from the beginning," Ian assured her.  
  
"Will you shut-up?" muttered Sara.  
  
"A paper clip will set one of these metal detectors off. What do you suppose a Glock and sword will do?" inquired Ian, fiercely but quietly.  
  
"Just shhhhhhh," Sara commanded.  
  
Xeire followed the two with Kenni, hoping this plan would work. Gabe had assured her that all she needed to do was be herself.  
  
In order to pull off this plan, Xeire had to convince the airport personnel that she was insane. Sara was supposed to be the person transporting Xeire and Ian to a clinic in L.A.  
  
Xeire found exactly 27 flaws in this plan, but it was less flawed than all the other plans. The plan with the least flaws involved Xeire and Ian flying to L.A. on the wing of the plane. Detective Pezzini had protested against this idea, and so, they complied. However, Xeire would have gladly ridden on the wing...much more legroom...  
  
As Gabe approached the metal detector, he pulled off his hood. Ian pointed out that the security guards would insist upon seeing his face. They decided it would be safe just to say the two were identical twins. No one would know what they really were. And if by some strange happenchance someone was able to deduce the real situation...  
  
...that person would quickly find themselves locked in a storage closet without clothes.  
  
If Ian had his way, that unlucky person's situation would be far worse.  
  
Ian, at the moment, was doing his best to keep from bolting from the chair and running off screaming. He did not like crowds...he did not like being in wheelchairs. Ian did not like being incapacitated at all, and the fact that Lady Sara was the one pushing the wheelchair made him feel all the worse.  
  
They approached the security guards, and Ian tensed. He was fairly sure this would not work. And if it did work...he would be sure to inform the airline of their security issues. *If* he got out of this fiasco alive. Ian decided to think of something else, and focused on the security guards. They were having a heated argument about something...perhaps about the metal detectors?...  
  
There were two people in line in front of them waiting to have their boarding passes checked, and a good seven or eight ahead of them for the metal detector.  
  
Ian looked over at the security guards as Sara dealt with the boarding passes. Watching the security run the wand over people, look through the carry-on luggage, and monitor the metal detector, Ian began to think. It looked like some odd sort of commencement ritual, if you thought about it too much...  
  
"He's pretty calm," noted the woman checking passes and the work orders.  
  
"Well, if you were on the medication he's on, you'd be pretty calm too," Sara said with a smile.  
  
The woman chuckled, and handed her back the boarding pass.  
  
"Have a nice flight, Miss,"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
James Iglaseio and Bob (no, he doesn't have a last name) stood in the area just past the metal detector, before the terminal opened up into the wide hallway. Their jobs were to look intimidating.  
  
Well...that's not what it said in their contract, but it was the main gist of it. To stop anyone who tried to bypass security. Surprisingly few people even attempted it.  
  
"Hey Bob...did the metal detector just move?" Jim inquired, squinting and trying to get a better angle to look from.  
  
"Jim...what have I told you about drinking when you're on shift?"  
  
"I didn't! Well...just a bit..."  
  
"You'd better take another break and get a whole shit-load of mints and coffee before the shift manager comes back."  
  
"I'm not *that* drunk. I swear it moved this time, man."  
  
"Jim, you need to..."  
  
Bob stopped speaking and tilted his head, listening. There was the sound of creaking and tearing, and suddenly lights began to flash erratically at the checkpoint.  
  
Screams erupted as the metal detector tore its metal legs from the carpeted floor and began to charge at people. The travelers scattered, avoiding the large metal legs of the detectors as it tried to crush them.  
  
While the people around them fled, Sara, Ian, Xeire, Kenni and the Gabriels just stood there, watching them run off. Soon, the security check was empty, all the personnel and travelers having been chased out into the lobby.  
  
"That was interesting," Xeire said indifferently. She grabbed her bag and walked towards their concourse, whistling.  
  
Sara and the Gabriels were a bit more reluctant to follow.  
  
"Did the..." Gabe started.  
  
"Yeah," Sara replied. Gabriel said nothing, only blinked in response.  
  
"May I get out of this chair now, Sara?" Ian inquired hopefully.  
  
"No."  
  
Ian turned in the chair so he could look at her. Sara knew what was coming.  
  
"Okay, okay...just no more kicked puppy eyes!"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Xeire settled herself in the aisle seat of on of the First class rows. Ian had bought all the seats except for four, which had already been purchased. There were two seats per row in the First Class cabin, and six rows. Not a whole lot of room to spread out.  
  
Those four passengers were already seated, and would hopefully be oblivious to their other six neighbors. It was going to be a fun ride. Then again, maybe *fun* wasn't the right word...  
  
Xeire slumped back in her seat and sighed. The task ahead of her was going to be difficult. She was not sure where Cole was going to be taken. They wouldn't bring him back to the Pentagon...they knew from prior experience that she could easily bypass the security there.  
  
She looked down to the simple silver band on her ring finger. She would get him back...  
  
"I wanna sit by the window!" an enthusiastic voice announced. Xeire looked up to see Kenni entering with Ian, and the others following behind him. If the child sat next to her, it was likely she would bind him and gag him.  
  
"How about this seat?" Ian said, picking row across from Xeire.  
  
"'Vill you be sitting here too?" Kenni asked.  
  
"Do you want me to?"  
  
Kenni nodded enthusiastically.  
  
"Then I will."  
  
Kenni smiled, and moved into the row, exclaiming over how comfy the seats were.  
  
Gabriel and Gabe sat next to each other, and Sara was left to either sit on her own, or next to Xeire. She chose to sit by herself.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We should be taking off soon, once the engineers manage to reattach the wing with duct tape..."  
  
"Hey, give me that!"  
  
"No, I'm the captain, it's mine!"  
  
"You're scaring the passengers!"  
  
"They like it!"  
  
"No, they don't!"  
  
After a few more moments and sounds of struggle, an new voice came over the intercom.  
  
"Hello folks...you co-pilot speaking...we should be taking off soon. You'll be happy to know that I will be the one flying the plane this afternoon..."  
  
Xeire sighed and closed her eyes. It was going to be a long flight.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A/N:  
  
I really didn't edit this chapter. I wrote it and posted it here. So, if you see some major goof-ups, ignore them, or inform me of them.  
  
In fact, I barely read this chapter! So...comment, and tell me all about it!!!  
  
Now, about where the find the continuation of this story. The lyrical Eli, whom we all know and love, has graciously accepted my proposal that she continue "Little Hope of Escape", since I have very little time to eat anymore, let alone write anything coherent. (Wait...that implies that this story has been coherent, doesn't it?...)  
  
Anyway, you will be able to find it, if you...  
  
- Go to ezboard (.com, that is), search for 'Connections', find Witchblade Connections, and *poof*, you're there.  
  
Sorry to do the complicated directions, but I can't post a link here, FF.com is being evil to me.  
  
I hope you continue to read and review LHE, even though it has been moved to a different forum. As you all know, Eli's writing is wonderful and hilarious, so you'd better review it, or I'll be sending the metal detectors after you. Muahahaha.  
  
Love ya'll, sorry I disappeared, and I apologize for disappearing once again. (You will also be able to find "Quoth the Raven" and "Summer Camp from Hell" over on Connection.)  
  
With that, I bid thee all a good night. *bows* 


End file.
